Servants Series 3
by ss9
Summary: Will Lizzie's secret become public knowledge? What is so dark about William Forest's past that he tries to hide it's very existance? And what could possibly happen to Flora and Walter now to upset the careful balance attained at the end of series 2?
1. Episode 1

The two men dragged him, his hands were bound behind his back and a bag covered his head, suddenly they threw him forward he fell against something hard. Roughly the bag was removed from his head and he blinked at the light. Looking around he could see he was in a courtroom dimly lit by candles, squinting he could make out people in the gallery but their faces were hidden. The door at the back of the courtroom opened and in stormed the judge his black robes swirling sinisterly around him. As the judge reached his bench he turned round and Jarvis gasped it was his father exactly the same as he had last seen him, the same unblinking small eyes and sour mouth.

"Father?" He called out.

The Judge reached out and seized his gravel bringing it crashing down on the desk in front of him, "Silence the accused is not permitted to speak." The sitting himself down he opened his big book of legal documents and began reading in a fast low voice the list of crimes of which his son was accused. Jarvis had to strain to hear, he caught phrases like "reckless abandonment", "theft", "adultery". Suddenly the judge came to the end of the list and looked up at his son a malicious grin, "well Walter you have been a naughty boy, but then again anyone who could standby and just watch their brother die must be possessing of a criminal nature."

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Silence!" The judge insisted banging his gravel again. "I will tell you when you are permitted to speak. Now are there any character witnesses for the defence?"

One of the rough policemen stepped forward, "Yes sir a one Mr Andrew Adams." At this Jarvis groaned, anyone except him.

In staggered Mr Adams who was obviously much the worse the wear for drink, one of the policemen walked p to him and holding out the bible asked "Do you swear..

"All the time I'm afraid?" Interrupted the drunken Adams

"Neither mind all that." The judge said waving away, "how long have you know the accused?"

"Oh about a year."

"A would you say he's a man of good character?"

"Well he's a man with lots of character!" Adams slurred trying surreptitiously to take a swig from his whiskey bottle but failing miserably and the mouthful split down his chin and stained his shirt.

"Explain?"

"Well he's lived a lot, actually he's a kind of role model for me, I want to be just like him!"

"I see well I think we've heard enough from you! Anyone else?" The policemen shook his head, and the judge sat further back in his chair glaring at Jarvis his grin broadening. "That just leaves you then Walter, do you have anything to say in your defence?"

Jarvis opened his mouth to speak but a hand clamped round it preventing him from doing so. "Are you sure nothing to say, very well I'll begin with sentencing, for your catalogue of heinous offences I suggest a seizure of property and a lengthy jail sentence.

Tell me bailiff does the accused own anything worthy of seizure?" In walked the bailiff who Jarvis could have sworn was the double of Jean-luc Delacour, "Only one thing sir!" and with that he signalled his towards the door and they dragged in Flora, her dress torn and tears flowing freely down her face.

She turned to Jarvis as they dragged her further into the courtroom "damn you this is all your fault I wish I'd never set eyes on you!"

Jarvis managed to shake off the hand and called out to her "Flora please I'm sorry"

Suddenly he was being roughly shaken, and he tried to fight them off but on reopening his eyes he found himself sitting in bed a worried and sleepy Flora had been doing the shaking. Relieved he leant forward and clasped her tight to him rocking her in his arms, he felt her hands move and stroke his hair soothingly whilst she muttered to him "it's alright Walter I'm here it was just a bad dream." After a moment he released her slightly and gazed into her eyes, brushing his hand over her cheek to make sure he wasn't still dreaming, she turned her head and kissed his palm. He leant forward and whispered to her "don't ever leave!" before kissing her as though his life depended on it.

Flora had finished dressing it was still early and the most of the house were still sleeping only the early morning staff were stirring, smiling to herself she wandered over to her bed to make it, after last night what with Walter thrashing about in his nightmare it needed to be entirely redone. Sighing she admitted defeat and stripped the sheets from the bed reaching into her closet for a clean set. Pausing for a moment her thoughts returned to the night before it had been such a shock Walter had been thrashing about so violently and calling her name, he hadn't been able to go back to sleep and had slipped away earlier than usual planting a kiss on her forehead before leaving. Quickly she finished making the bed and smoothed the counterpane and turned to open the door intending to go down to her office and get a few hours paperwork done before the start of the working day.

Finally settled in her office her medium sized book of figures in front of her, she proceeded to check Mrs Stanwick entries once again determined to find fault with the temporary housekeeper she had been gone over a week yet still the idea of that woman touching anything that had was hers made her rankle. Her door open she listened in the background to the general hustle and bustle as people got up and moved about starting their day. It was as a result of this that she caught a snatch of conversation between two staff.

"Morning Johnny where are you going with that?"

"Its hot Water for Mr Jarvis's bath."

"Alright for some!"

"Yeah well I'd better get going before it cools too much."

Flora put down her pen, a smile slowly spreading over her face now there's an idea.

Upstairs Jarvis sat soaking in his bath, his eyes closed trying to wash away the images from last night. Finally things seemed to have gotten back to normal with regards to him and Flora, for the umpteenth time that morning he thanked this lucky stars that Mrs Stanwick had left when she did before it was too late for them to salvage their relationship. But why these nightmares? Why did he always dream about loosing her even when things were going well between them? The father part he understood, he knew his father blamed him for his brother's death and thought he had abandoned them afterwards. It was this baggage that prevented him from going and visiting parents; he was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he did not hear his door open quietly, nor the shuffle and rustle of silk. He was only interrupted from these thoughts when Flora dumped a jug full of cold water over his head.

"What the hell!" Jarvis sat up straight in the bath and turned round to look behind him and spotted Flora standing right behind him giggling madly. "You little minx." He shouted flicking water at her, Flora backed up away from him avoiding the water. Jarvis grabbing a towel got out of his bath and strode over to her, Flora suddenly realised what she'd started when a very wet Jarvis grabbed her round the waist and flicking his hair out of his eyes pulled her against him kissing her passionately.

Flora managed to push him away, "look what you've done to my dress!"

"Well I have a solution to that take it off!"

"We haven't got time!"

"Really? You're so sure about that?" He said sauntering over to her, and raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Flora backed towards the door her hands out in front of her warding him off, "I'm sure!" Then as she opened the door and backed out he called after her.

"If you think this is the end of this Mrs Ryan you are mistaken, I suggest you keep your eyes and ears open."

Cut to the lower servants' dining room where breakfast is well underway, with most members of staff exceedingly hungry. The conversation between George, Fred and Joe is still dominated the whole stuffed bear prank.

"Come on lads, it seriously isn't funny, the bloody thing moulted, now I'm sleeping on a layer of dead bear hair!" George complained

"Well, we did you a favour then mate, nice soft bear hair!" stirred Joe

"Soft! You know full well its a coarse as a hedgehogs, bloody things are sticking in me, and they itch like crazy "

"George, a word of advice" Fred began in a genuine tone which quickly changed "Watch the bed bugs don't bite!"

"Oh ha, friggin ha, quite the comedian aren't we - don't give up your day job." George sneered.

"Tell me Joseph, Fredrick, have you two managed to find that damned peacock yet?" enquired Mr Adams, who for once actually made it to breakfast, though the familiar hangover was still there.

"Not yet Sir" said Joe respectfully.

"But then Mrs Stanwick was always a bit of a slippery old bird wasn't she!" Fred mused sarcastically, keeping his eyes fixed on Mr A

"Well I suggest you stop filling your faces and get back out there and look for her, uh (correcting himself, shaking his head, like a nervous twitch at the thought of that woman) I mean it!" Adams insisted, trying to cover up his agitation with a cocky grin.

Fred and Joe looked at each other, great, there goes their bacon sandwiches. If Fred had been feeling confident, he'd have made some remark about if they found it in the bushes, maybe Adams would like to venture in after it, but having been denied his breakfast, he was damned if he was going to miss out on lunch. The two footmen made a quiet exit, before the 'fun and games' could resume.

Through all this, William Forrest had remained largely silent, sitting there quietly picking at his toast, an abnormality that did not escape George who enquired "Are you alright mate? How's Lizzie, she gotten over that illness of hers yet? I hope you've been looking after her?"

As Will was in a grey mood, he misinterpreted what George had meant by 'looking after her' "How would I know? We aren't joined at the hip you know, unlike you and Grace!"

Seeing he'd clearly taken it the wrong way, George continued "Nah mate, I didn't mean that!"

"Like hell you didn't, just what did you mean, eh?" beginning to get quietly irate, and without giving George a chance to continue, he did so, in a calmer tone "Look I haven't seen her since the night of the Earl's party, and she was very upset, I just comforted her, listened to her and made sure she was-" he stopped in mid sentence as the lady in questioned finally entered the room after and absence of more than a week.

Automatically, Will moved up the bench a little, making way for Lizzie, but at seeing this, she elected to sit by Johnny at the other end of the table, trying to keep her eyes from Will after an initial split-second encounter.

Oh god, thought Will, she had taken it badly. But he gained hope when she looked in his direction and their eyes met again. However, this was too much for her, and she simply looked down at the table, as she could feel Will's eyes fixed upon her. He knew it was making her uncomfortable, so he prised them away, but the internal fixation continued. All he could think of was, would things ever be the same between them again? If she didn't feel the same way, that was no great problem, he could grow live with that, but he needed her to talk to, to laugh with. Best to give her time he resolved, not pressure her either way, best let things settle down, they needed a calm after their storm, but he hoped this period of estrangement would be brief.

Next scene. Flora is busying herself with her figures in her office when Jarvis runs in, a look of sheer panic on his face. She looks up, dropping her quill and pushing back her chair

Flora: Walter…..I mean, Mr Jarvis, what's happened!

Jarvis panting: Oh, you won't believe it! It's Mrs Stanwick – she's back! 

Flora a look of sheer horror spreading on her face: How? Why? You gave her her character, didn't you?

Jarvis: Yes, but she's shrieking on about goodness knows what now, and is digging up the Earl's prize Queen Victoria roses with her feet! 

Hurrying away down the corridor, Flora quickly follows him out and trots next to him, his expression like thunder

Flora: I don't understand what she could possibly want now? It's not to do with Mr Adams, is it!

Jarvis: How do I know, she won't stop crying and she's already snapped at William and George. Fred Matkin is trying to catch her now!

They both arrive outside, Flora frantically searching for Mrs Stanwick with wide eyes, her heart pumping in her chest. Was Taplows NEVER going to be rid of that woman?

Flora: Well, I can't see her, Mr Jarvis.

Jarvis unable to feign his serious expression any longer, smiling slyly at her: Well, if you just look over there……

He points over to the geraniums where a large, beautifully coloured peacock is squarking and pecking away at poor Fred, who is desperately trying to corner the bird into a bush but once again failing to get anywhere near it. Flora, puffing out her cheeks, hits Jarvis on the arm with a hard whack, folding her arms and storming down towards the peacock. Jarvis, laughing and shaking his head, follows her down.

Meanwhile, George is observing the fun from a safe distance away with Grace

George grinning: Poor old Fred. Always gets the rough jobs. You'd think he'd have bonded with the creature by now, he spends so much time with it! It should recognise his voice by now, damned thing!

Grace giving him a naughty glance: George, while everyone's out here preoccupied, you know we once talked about….well…..doing it in Jarvis' room…

George: No Grace, YOU talked about it, remember.

Grace rubbing his arm suggestively: Oh, it would be so naughty, the boss and all. Please, quick, we could do it now!

Before he can answer, she pulls him by his arm and they dash quietly and unseen into the house, giggling and kissing as they go. Once in the room, Grace pulls him close and nibbles on his ear, but before things can even get started, they hear footsteps. Glancing at each other in sudden panic, only one option is available to them as they can't be seen to be leaving. Flinging open Jarvis' wardrobe door, they quickly manage to squeeze themselves in, quietly shutting the door behind them just in time. Jarvis enters, still looking amused, Mrs Ryan following him in and pushing past him

Flora hands on hips: I can't believe you made me panic like that! Mrs Stanwick, eh! 

Jarvis smirking: Oh Flora, it was a joke! Got you back good and proper, I'd say!

Jarvis shuts the door behind him, walking up to Flora who is by the window and rubbing her shoulders. Stuck in the wardrobe, Grace and George glance wide-eyed at each other then peer through the gap again. Something was telling both of them that maybe they were soon to be scarred for life

Jarvis softly: Call it quits?

Flora with a cheeky smile: Without replying, Flora turns to him. Talking of Mrs Stanwick, you say you did give that dreadful woman her character in the end? She seemed to leave in such a great hurry, poor dear.

Jarvis sat behind his desk, smiling up at Flora as he pops on his spectacles, opens his book of figures and dips his quill in the ink pot

Flora giving him a wry look as she moves over to the desk, drumming her fingers on the worktop: Walter, what did you write!

Jarvis raising his eyebrows and chuckling as he begins to write, eyes down on the page: Oh well I'm sorry Flora but that is between Mrs Stanwick and myself.

Flora, unable to contain her interest, bends down and rests her elbow on the desk, chin in her palm. She looks him straight in the eye and lowers her voice

Flora: Tell me!

Jarvis feigning a serious expression: No! I don't see why I should, after what you did to me this morning!

A mischievous glint in her eyes, Mrs Ryan swiftly pinches the quill from his grasp and places it behind her back, standing upright and backing up away from the desk

Flora grinning naughtily, then waving the quill in front of her: You will tell me, or you won't get your quill back! 

Inside the wardrobe, George resists the urge to groan for fear of being heard, covering his face with embarrassment. Oh please no, he was thinking, PLEASE no! Grace isn't sure whether to laugh or feel just as awful as George. Neither had ever seen Mrs Ryan and Jarvis like this before, even in public they were still as professional as possible even though everyone knows what really goes on. Nevertheless, the two lower servants felt that they really didn't need to actually see it! Squinting through his fingers, George shakes his head, but for some inexplicable reason can't tear his eyes away - a bit like watching a carriage crash, he concludes.

Jarvis jumping up from behind his desk, mock exasperation on his face: Flora, don't be childish! Haven't we had enough of that for one day? Give it back.

Flora running round to the desk and quickly scooping up the book of figures: I won't let you have this either until you tell me what you wrote! I want to know...I DEMAND to know!

Jarvis standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips and tapping his foot: You won't win, you know. I don't care about my book, it's completely full of figures and I was about to start my new one.

Flora pointing and laughing: Ah, ha! That's just a trick, I know it is! 

She scuttles over to the bed, the book and quill clutched to her chest. Backing up against it, Jarvis walks up to her and smiling wryly reaches for the book, but seeing his plan Flora raises the book above her head, almost falling backwards onto the bed. Reacting quickly to this suddenly vulnerable position of hers, he grabs her by the waist and begins to tickle her mercilessly. She giggles, trying to push him off, but the book gets in the way and she topples back onto the bed.

Flora her voice choked through laughing: Stop it! You men are all the same!

Jarvis without letting up, he climbs on top of her trying to reach the book with one hand, the other doing the tickling: Don't think you can pinch a man's book of figures and get away with it, you cheeky thing!

Back inside the wardrobe George, his knuckles in his mouth, thinks he's going to die with further embarrassment at their incredibly juvenile and flirtatious behaviour while Grace is sniggering into her hand. All George can think is 'please don't do what I think you're going to do!' Meanwhile, Jarvis manages to force the book out of Flora's grip, which had loosened somewhat with all the distraction

Jarvis declaring his victory with gusto, but without climbing off her: Oh you weak and feeble woman! You're so easy to beat.

Flora, not to be outdone, knocks his arm so the book is sent flying into the air, landing on the bed with a thud, its pages falling open. She attempts to tickle him back, sliding her hands up inside his waistcoat, but before she can get very far he gently pulls her arms away, threading his fingers through hers and grinning at her

Jarvis rubbing her nose with his, his voice turning sultry: Oh I know what you want.

Flora smiling and turning her face away: And who are you, Walter Cory, to tell me what I want?

Jarvis planting kisses on her neck: Oh I think by now I can tell when you're feeling naughty.

George's jaw has now dropped. He couldn't think of anything worse than hearing them at the door, but yes this certainly won The Most Embarrassing And Disgusting Thing Ever In The World Award. He tries singing in his head, shutting his eyes tight and placing his hands over his ears. Grace is nudging him, a look of pleading on her face. Her legs had both gone completely numb with pins-and-needles, but George has little sympathy.

George raising his eyebrows at Grace and mouthing: You don't think they're going to...?

Grace whispering to him: They're so old! It's disgusting!

Both then peer back out through the crack, desperate for something to happen so Jarvis and Mrs Ryan would leave

George: Don't you ever tell Will about this! Ever!

Grace looks as him as if to say 'as if!', quietly shifting her position so she could stretch her leg a little, but relief and interest overcomes their apprehension when Jarvis and Mrs Ryan strike up another conversation instead of 'doing the business'

Flora playfully pushing off Jarvis, jumping to her feet and smoothening down her dress with her hands: You're not getting anything at all until you tell me what was in that character!

Jarvis tutting, flopping back onto the bed and sighing: Very well, you persistent wench! 

Placing his hands behind his head, he smiles cheekily up at Flora, who is looking at him expectantly

Jarvis looking coy: All I said was, well, she has a forceful nature but she is a woman of a certain standard whose needs can be satisfied quite thoroughly under certain circumstances provided it is done correctly. She does the job well as she can become acquainted very with any nooks and cranies which may need a good seeing-to, although she can, it appears, be very happy to give anything just a general, an of course excellent, going-over if she is lacking time. She has an eye for detail, but can sometimes be a little forgetful and can leave dirty laundry all over the floor for others to trample on. Having said that, she found it surprisingly easy to communicate with the staff on a very one to one basis, to which is may be said is to her credit, and in some cases the staff were very keen to see as much of her as possible.

Flora covering her mouth and giggling: Oh Walter, you are awful! She'll never work again!

Inside the wardrobe, George and Grace are finding it hard to contain their laughter at this revelation, but sadly they realise they can't tell anyone about it because of the circumstances. George, feeling his sides are going to split completely, finds his jovial mood suddenly change to one of extreme anxiety when he sees Jarvis lift himself off the bed and coming up behind Flora and pulling her close to him, kissing the back of her neck. George and Grace's eyes widen in shock as he begins to unfasten her dress, but George, in a stress-induced sudden movement, rolls over in the wardrobe, smashing the door open wide to reveal him and a startled Grace huddled in it. Jarvis and Mrs Ryan looked across, completely stunned, and all four of them held their positions for a second not knowing what to do or say as the situation sank in. Finally Jarvis moved swiftly away from Mrs Ryan, looking from her to the wardrobe in stunned silence.

George leaping out of the wardrobe, Grace following: Mr Jarvis, Mrs Ryan, I can explain…….I….I mean we…..er…..

Jarvis gathering his wits as Flora backs towards the door: George Cosmo, Grace May, what in God's name are you doing in there! Holding up his hands Actually, I don't want to know! Get out, both of you! Now!

George, muttering apologies, awkwardly makes for the door. Grace, passing Mrs Ryan, stops to look at her with a look of regret on her face, but can't find the words so hurries out after George. Once they have gone, Jarvis turns to Flora. They stare at each other, still dumbstruck, but instead of the shouting and crying which had gone before, both burst out laughing – uncontrollable, hysterical laughter as they fall back onto the bed, clutching their stomachs

Jarvis wiping away tears: That……his face! Oh, too funny!

Flora nodding her head through her giggles: Oh yes, Grace was mortified! 

They finally regain their composure, standing up again to leave the room. Flora leans up and kisses Jarvis tenderly as he grabs a squeeze of her bottom, and she exits, still chuckling periodically as she sauntered down the corridor.

Flora had intended to return to her office but on the way there Lizzie, who was once more worried about Mr Kraus, had waylaid her. Apparently Chef had turned up to prepare breakfast however since the morning post had arrived he had not been seen. Signing Flora marched up to his room knocking on the door, "Mr Kraus are you there?" There was no answer, "Felix please open the door its Flora and I'm hear if you need to talk?"

Slowly the door opened and Felix's head appeared his eye's puffy from crying, Flora's heart when out to him over the past few days all she had been thinking about was herself and she had forgotten how low her friend must still be feeling. Walking over to him she drew him into a hug and his arms wrapped round her squeezing her tight as if drawing strength from having her close.

"Come on Felix we'll go for a walk and you can tell me all about it."

At first they just walked in silence Flora waiting for Felix to start when he was ready, however by the time they reached the gazebo Flora was beginning to wonder if he would ever start to talk so she turned round stopping dead in front of him. Felix looked down at her his expression practically hidden by his hair which fallen in front of his face. "What did you get in the post today Felix?" She asked softly placing a comforting hand on his arm.

Felix turned his head to gaze out over the water, "It was a present from my friend he sent me his recipe book, a handwritten copy of all his creations over the years, for a chef there is nothing that can be prized more highly, it something you spend your entire career compiling and he left it to me in his will….." he began his voice laden with emotion unable to continue.

"I see well I can understand why that would upset you but at least you can take some comfort that at the end he thought enough of you and your friendship to remember you in such a way."

Felix shook his head tears springing to his eyes, "But I didn't deserve it!"

"Felix I'm sure you did."

"How can you say that?" He said turning to face her tears now streaming down his face.

"I know because I know you, I know what a good friend you are to me and to Walter and I can't imagine you ever being anything other than worthy of someone's eternal friendship…."

"That is not the same!" He interrupted her. "It was not the same! Flora you must have realised that by now?"

Flora looked up at him sharply, he was staring at her with an air of desperation, "Felix what are you trying to tell me?"

Exasperated he turned from her and strode over to the pond picking up a pebble and skimming it expertly over the tranquil waters. Flora walked up behind him and spoke softly "What are you trying to tell me?"

Sighing Felix's shoulders sagged and he practically threw himself to the floor hugging his knees to his chest, determined to get an answer Flora more carefully lowered herself to the floor and sat next to him.

"I loved him." He whispered

"Well…" She began but all protestations died on her lips when he turned round to face her and taking both her hands in his own.

"I loved him and he loved me and not just as friends Flora." Flora gasped drawing away from him in shock, upset by her reaction Felix turned away from her burying his head in his hands. "I shouldn't have told you I'm sorry it was selfish of me and I don't blame you for hating me for what I am I'm used to it."

"But are you sure?"

Felix shook his head smiling "I'm sure believe me I'm sure, for years I tried to convince myself that it was just because I had just not met the right girl but despite romances I felt nothing for example…."

At this he lent forward and grasping Flora's chin and kissed her firmly on the mouth then just as quickly he withdrew leaving Flora stunned, "nothing! Then I met Claude and for the first time in my life everything seemed to fit into place and I was the happiest I can ever remember but things couldn't stay that way I was too afraid of being exposed. If people had found out about us our careers would have been over, after all what household would employ such gentlemen? I did something unforgivable I left him for the sake of my career, I abandoned him denying who and what I was, and by doing that I denigrated and cheapened our love turning into something shameful." With that he once more started to cry.

Flora who had been at first stunned by this revelation soon came to her senses and she reached out her hand at first hesitantly to pat Felix on the back. "I'm sure he understood Felix after all he wouldn't have sent you something so precious if he hadn't forgiven you, maybe it's time you forgave yourself?"

"You don't hate me?" He asked in between sobs.

"No I don't hate you, how could I it's only because of you that Walter and I are back together, you do so much for other people I don't think its too much to ask that I can be here for you now and not judge but just be your friend."

"Things are better between you, you've gotten over that Mrs Stanwick business?"

"Yes I suppose we have." She said handing him her handkerchief, which he took and blew his nose loudly. "Thanks to you for making me see straight and not keep jumping to conclusions, now come on back to the house we can have a nice cup of tea."

Smiling Kraus got to his feet reaching down to grasp her hands and pull her up, then arm in arm they made they way back to the house.

George is walking down the corridor in the servants quarters, hands in his pockets and looking down at his feet as he whistles to himself, head completely in the clouds. So much so he almost trips over Jarvis who appears directly in front of him. Grinding to a sudden holt, George, startled, meets Jarvis' stare and unconsciously backs away slightly

George slight alarm in his voice: Mr Jarvis!

Jarvis, surprisingly to George, hardly looks angry at all. Instead he has an air of unease about him, almost embarrassed in George's presence. Nevertheless it was something that had to be done. Yes, a bit of 'man-to-man' conversation about the opposite sex was needed before George got himself into more trouble, in more ways than one. The damage had been done with Grace, of course, but a few words of manly advice may not go amiss. Without a father around, Jarvis feels a little responsible for the lad as he always seems so young to him. Thinking back, far back, he could remember how he was at George's age – too keen, too much into mischief, too much into girls. This thought made him smile.

Jarvis losing eye contact with George and looking everywhere but at him: Mr Cosmo, a word if you will.

Turning on his heels, Jarvis marches away, George nervously following behind, hands still stuck firmly in his pockets. He doesn't even sound that angry, George concludes. Must be something else! Jarvis throws open his office door, indicating to George to close it firmly behind him, then stands awkwardly by his desk, drumming his fingers repeatedly on the top and nervously biting his bottom lip

George glancing round the office apprehensively: Sir?

Jarvis sighing sharply, a look of almost desperation in his eyes: Mr Cosmo…..George…what you saw today….

George running his fingers through his hair then throwing his arms down by his side: Look, Mr Jarvis, I'm really sorry about what happened, we were just having a laugh…..

Jarvis raising his eyebrows in surprise at George's sudden confession: At my expense?

George: No sir, not at all, Grace thought…..I thought…….wondered what the view was like from your room. Sir. 

George knew full well he was convincing nobody, especially himself. Jarvis paced the room, not really knowing how to respond to that. Really it was so funny, but he had to keep a straight face, show the boy a bit of fatherly compassion but also remaining firm. George, thinking it might be an amusing if not rather cunning way to get out of the situation, decides suddenly to act a little naïve as far as relations are concerned. If he could fluster Jarvis just enough, he thinks, maybe it would all get too embarrassing and he would let George off with a caution

Jarvis stopping in front of George and folding his arms: I do not think, Mr Cosmo, you will have much chance to see a view like mine if you continue on your current course.

George hanging his head: No, Mr Jarvis.

Jarvis softening his expression: George, what you saw today…….women like to feel, well, special. Women are very strange creatures oh goodness, Jarvis thinks, what IS he saying to the poor lad, don't ever try to understand them.

George biting his lip, and his tongue: No, Mr Jarvis.

Jarvis breathing in deeply: Women, it seems, like to be a little…silly at times, and it's always best to play along, unless they are intoxicated, married or hysterical. Or even worse, all three!

George looking at the floor and shuffling: Yes, Mr Jarvis. Mr Jarvis, sir he looks up, lowering his voice and glancing round as if the walls had ears, I wanted to ask you…I mean, you seem so worldly, you've lived, haven't you sir?

Jarvis trying to suppress a slight panic as to where George is going: Yes, I suppose I have, Mr Cosmo.

George moving closer to him: Well, women sir. I don't really understand. I was hoping you could tell me, well, you know.

Jarvis frowning, becoming increasingly embarrassed by George's line of questioning: What do you mean, lad? Give women what they want, but only to a certain extent. They need to remember their place, don't let them try to get the better of you or to trick you, they can be devious at times.

George his voice almost a whisper, looking pleadingly at Jarvis: No, I mean….well…I don't know how it happened.

Jarvis becoming increasingly exasperated: How what happened, boy! I haven't got time to….

George: Grace and her pregnancy, Mr Jarvis. I don't understand the birds and the bees and that, sir, and you seem to know everything and I don't know who else to ask.

Jarvis gulping hard and not enjoying being a father after all. He didn't mean this kind of advice, purely the 'watch your back' type: Well, can't you ask Mrs Ryan? 

George rubbing his forehead: Oh please, sir. I'm completely confused and I really need advice so it doesn't happen again.

Jarvis: Best thing is to not go near Miss May again, Mr Cosmo! If you want to be a butler you'd better knuckle down and stop thinking about girls, as they certainly won't help your career! All you need to know is that women…..women can be seductive, and although you may play along with them for a little while, these feisty creatures should be stopped with a firm manner and a tip of your hat. If you have one!

George resisting a snigger and feigning a confused look: And if you don't have a top hat, sir?

Jarvis slumps down into his chair and busies himself with an envelope. He wasn't about to put up with George's questioning any longer and he certainly felt he wasn't up to this fatherly figure nonsense where carnal relations are concerned

Jarvis looking up at his footman but still avoiding eye contact: Take my advice, Mr Cosmo, as that is what you seek. Please don't climb into my wardrobe again, but if you feel the need to please do it with my knowledge, without Grace May and taking your shoes off first!

George nodding and backing out of the room: Yes, Mr Jarvis, thank you.

Turning, a large grin spreads on George's face as he trots off, beginning to whistle again, Jarvis frowning and watching him until he disappears round the corner.

Meanwhile over in the Still room a remarkably similar conversation was taking place between Mrs Ryan and Grace May. Mrs Ryan had offered to help Grace with her jam making that morning and Grace knew then she was going to be on the receiving end of a long lecture.

"Honestly Grace you would have thought you'd learnt your lesson by now, you've already been pregnant this year are you hell bent on ruining yourself?"

"It's not like that Mrs Ryan we both try to behave and neither of us want to leave, its just…."

"You don't seem able to keep your hands off each other!" Flora retorted but not unkindly.

Grace blushed and squeezed her straining cloth a little too firmly causing raspberry juice to squirt out all over the place. "Ooops" Grace squeaked and she desperately tried to wipe up the mess she made.

"Never mind Grace let that be a lesson to you, that's what happens if you squeeze too hard."

Grace's head shot up her cheeks turning crimson Mrs Ryan couldn't have just said what she thought she said? Flora caught Grace's incredulous expression and frowned causing the girl's head to one more snap back to her work.

What was that look for Flora thought? Then recalling what she had said she groaned slightly her own cheeks flaming, "You know what I meant Grace, this is exactly what I meant you don't seem to be able to concentrate on the job without your mind wandering off to other topics. Well it has to stop don't make me have to lock you in your room at night!"

Grace had to resist the desire to snigger, wondering who would have the task of locking Mrs Ryan in her room at night for if her and Mr Jarvis were as friendly as they seemed to be it wasn't just her who was endanger of ruining herself. Mrs Ryan was busying herself about to return to her office, "one more thing Grace I don't appreciate anybody going to other member of staffs bedrooms without permission, for any reason; especially mine or Mr Jarvis's. I don't expect to find you or anyone else there again, believe me I will be checking in wardrobes and under all the beds from now on and if I do find anyone there I will hold you responsible. Do I make myself clear?"

Grace nodded "Yes Mrs Ryan!" Flora relieved at getting Grace's agreement turned and walked through the door leaving Grace alone to get back to work. After a few minutes she was interrupted by a quiet tapping on the door, she turned to see George sidling through the door looking around suspiciously for Mrs Ryan.

"All clear?"

"Yeah she's finished bending my ear. You?"

"Jarvis collared me earlier but I managed to embarrass him so much he let me go, I don't think he's ever going to be able to look me in the eye again, tried giving me all this advice about handling women personally after their display yesterday I think it's him who should be coming to me for advice!" He said chuckling to himself.

"We are going to have to be more careful George…"

"This coming from the girl was practically ripping me clothes off in Jarvis' bedroom, don't forget Miss it was all your idea!" He said nudging her with his elbow.

Grace pushed his arm away and moved over to start kneading her bread, "I know but they're right just cause they've let us get away with it so far…"

"Grace there letting us get away with it because they know they'd be hypocrites if they didn't!" George blurted out exasperated. "look Grace we'll just have to be more careful from now on, no risk taking which means your suggestion of the Earls study is not going to happen!" Grace pouted at this, "I mean it Grace," he said, "for once Mr Jarvis has a point there comes a time when a man has to put his foot down, well I'm putting mine down now firmly no more funny business in funny places, understand."

Grace's pout turned to a sly seductive smile and she sashayed over to George whose eyes had gone wild like a cornered animal. She lent forward running her hands up his chest, "well if you say so George?" She lent forward even more her lips now mere hundredths of an inch away from his before she continued, "such a shame though," she teased before abruptly pulling away from him leaving a very frustrated George standing by the door.

Cut to the courtyard where Fred and Joe are trying to air the dust ridden rug from old Lady Mary's sitting room. As they bat the dull red and gold paisley patterned rug, clouds of dust emerge, so much so they don't notice Johnny walking across the yard towards them.

Fred: "I can hardly bloody see here mate, this sodding thing must be as old as she is"

Joe: "Come off it, nothings THAT old!"

Fred: "Maybe not then, but it hasn't had a clean since her 80th at least"

Johnny is now wafting his way through the dust haze to inform them of a most peculiar sight he had just beheld.

"You know what you were saying about Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus the other day Fred?"

Although he couldn't see the person addressing him, after Johnny had recently regained the power of speech, Fred knew it was him. "Yeah, before Grace stuck her nose in?" he recalled

"Well Grace will be singing a different tune when she finds out what I saw on my way into town" said Johnny in a slightly self-congratulating tone

"Really? What's this then?" asked an intrigued Joe

"You'll never guess..." Johnny teased in a cocky manner, which didn't impress Fred who wanted him to get to the point but couldn't resist an "I doubt it" first

Taking note of Fred's impatient disposition, Johnny continued "Well, on my way back from town to pick up a parcel for Mr Adams, I saw Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus slumped on the ground over by the pond. At first I was a little surprised at them sitting on the damp grass, but I couldn't believe my eyes when..." he paused for dramatic effect

"When ..." coaxed Fred who wasn't going to allow any more hold ups.

"I was just getting to that" Johnny said sternly, which shocked his listeners, as he had never spoken like that, or indeed at this length before. "When ... Kraus took her face in his hand, turning her head and then ..." By this point both Fred and Joe were well and truly hooked. "Then he kissed her!"

"Your kidding me" gasped Joe

For a second Fred was dumbstruck, but he quickly came round and started laughing at this sudden development. His laughter did not last long however, as it was broken by the presence of Mr Adams who had crept up on them unnoticed, hearing every word. He delayed his intervention partly because he too couldn't believe his ears at what Johnny had revealed, and partly because he had to regain a straight face.

"You think that's funny do you Mr Matkin?"

"Well, perhaps just a little Sir" answered Fred with a snigger, trying desperately to stop bursting out laughing.

"Yes well I'd thank you, all three of you, to stop gossiping idly about your superiors, after all we're the ones who hand out the wages, and indeed the punishments" Adams reminded them

"Punishment Sir?" asked Joe, who thought it was a bit steep to be reprimanded for simply relaying information.

"Yes, punishment Joseph, and that's exactly what Mr Jarvis will be handing out if he hears you talking like that. Now, Johnny, do you have it?"

"Sir" muttered Johnny, handing Adams a small box wrapped in brown paper, tied with some blue string.

Adams took it from him and then returned to the house. With his back to the three footmen, he could no longer contain his glee at this rather unexpected turn of events. Well, well, well, Mr Kraus eh? He thought, personally Adams did not think Felix had it in him, but was for the first time delighted that he had seemingly misjudged the rather animated Chef. Even though he had warned them against letting Mr Jarvis hear them, he secretly wished he had, but then corrected himself, as this was some precious information he could use, naturally to his own twisted advantage.

Cut to the footmen's dressing room where Will is frantically trying to powder and prime his wig as he was due on duty at the foot of the main staircase about five minutes ago. The reason he is so hurried is because he had woken up late, just reaching the dining table as the others were leaving, and all he was greeted with was a few stone-cold rashers of crispy bacon and one mouldy slice of bread. Had he not been so hungry, he'd had declined the leftovers and waited for lunch, but the gurgling in his stomach simply would stand the test of time. So he pinched his nose and gobbled up the bacon, but unsurprising left the slice of bread, that was even too much for him to bear.

At the present time he was thinking of both everything and nothing, but in the back of his mind, niggling away at him, he knew that Adams would be there to check he'd turned up on time. As he was attempting to come up with another equivocal excuse, his attention was snatched by a knock on the door.

"Will? Will, are you in there" whispered a female voice

Will knew to whom it belonged, and hadn't been expecting it so soon. "Yeah, I'm here" he replied

Carefully the door opened and Lizzie poked her head around the corner. "You've got mail" she revealed, holding up a rather soiled and dog-eared envelope.

On seeing it he retorted without need for any thought "You know exactly what you can do with that don't you?" before returning is focus to the wig in front of him.

"Oh come on, you can't just throw it away" Lizzie pleaded, walking towards him, holding out the letter.

At this the footman rose from his seat, snatching the dreaded piece of literature from her grasp and replied clearly and firmly "Just watch me". He turned from her and walked exaggeratingly over to the fireplace, only stopping when he realised no fire had been stoaked, at which he tried, but failed to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, its that easy isn't it!" challenged Lizzie.

Only partially conceding defeat, Will replied "Well, that didn't go too well, but there's a ruddy great big one, with plenty of flames in the Earl's study, it'll get nicely roasted to a crisp in there".

"Come on, don't be such a coward" Lizzie started, now having changed her angle of approach to the conversation.

"Coward? Oh I'm sorry, but after years of abuse from the man, I'm standing by my right to be just a little wary of him!" snapped Will.

"That's exactly why you have to open it, he probably wants to make amends" she continued

"The only thing he wants to do is clear his own dark conscience - IF, and that's a big if, he has one, which I very much doubt." He could see that Lizzie wasn't convinced by this angry rhetoric, so calmed himself down before speaking again. "I can't let him do that Lizzie, I can't let him forget what he's done, as I never will. Its in my head morning, noon and night, I can't escape what he did, so why should he?"

Lizzie walked over, and gently took the letter from Will, whose hand had now dropped to his side." Look, do you want me to take a look for you, tell you what he says?" she suggested, rubbing Wills arm to reinforce her support.

"No, certainly not, I wouldn't have a lady read anything written by that man. I told you Lizzie, I don't want to hear from let alone see that ... (trying to think of a more eloquent word, but failing) that murderer again".

Lizzie, knowing full well any further attempt to bring him round to the idea would prove futile, decided to try anyway "But, what if he-"

Will wasn't even willing to listen to any more reasoning from her, but desperately didn't want to offend her in making that fact known. "But what, what if he wants to apologise, wants to make everything alright, all hunky-dory ..," he began losing his thread. "Don't you see Lizzie no matter how sorry he may be, that just isn't enough. In this life, there are something's which are just unforgivable, and this is one of them".

With that, he looked at the clock on the wall, it was not nearly quarter-past nine, Adams was going to have his guts for garters. "I'm sorry Lizzie, I know you think your only trying to help the situation, but trust me, its firmly beyond help. I can't stay any longer, I'm late as it is". he said sincerely but hurriedly as he dashed past her, and out of the door.

Lizzie was left there on her own, not sure what to do next. She knew what she had to do, Mrs Ryan had ordered some flour to be brought from the bake house, but for a few moments, Lizzie couldn't bring herself to move. However, she regained some motivation when she looked down at her right hand, in which the letter remained. In his bid to escape the rather awkward nature of their conversation, Will had completely forgotten to retrieve the letter from her grasp. At this, she raised a little smile, deciding to try again later; she folded the already crumpled envelope, and put it in the pocket of her pinafore.

Jarvis careful shut the doors to the Earl's study resisting the urge to give the door jam a good kick as he strode back to his office, on the way he glanced in to the lower servants hall catching Mr Adams who had decided to grab forty winks in front of the fire.

"Mr Adams," he bellowed causing the sleepy under butler to jump to his feet knocking over his cup of tea and half eaten Chelsea bun. "That is a most unusual method to supervise the staff unless you have grown eyes in the back of your head? My office now!" Adams grousing at his bad luck wiped the dregs of his tea off of his trousers and followed Jarvis down the hall and into his office.

Jarvis flung his door open wide and not waiting for his subordinate to enter he went to his desk, unlocking a draw he pulled out his book of figures, which he opened with a flourish and placing his spectacles on his nose he began to write. Adams sidled into the room closing the door behind him and went and stood in front of Jarvis's desk like a schoolboy in the headmaster's office. For a few moments Jarvis simply ignored him and this angered Adams beyond anything that he could say, who does he think he is, the Earl himself? When Jarvis had finished his calculation he placed his pen down on the table and steepleling his fingers he looked up at Adams through his spectacles frowning.

"What am I going to do about you Mr Adams?"

"Urrrgghhh"

"That was a rhetorical question, in that I do not expect or desire you to comment! I've tried helping you, I've tried punishing you and frankly neither seems to work. If I had a choice you would be out on your ear before you could say haggis….. but there is still the small matter of your debt of £100, and somehow if you left Taplow's I doubt very much that I'd see one blackened penny of that money again. I could always demote you I suppose?"

Adams head shot up at that and for the first time he looked Mr Jarvis in the eye, in truth he had been ignoring most of what Jarvis had said the man was longwinded and boring but the prospect of demotion made him pay attention. "You can't do that!"

"Can't I?"

"You mustn't!"

"Really? Somehow I think it might be good for you, a taste of your own medicine and I'm sure it would give Mr Forest some much needed responsibility and experience!" Jarvis had to resist the urge to smile as he watched the colour drain out of Adams's face at the prospect of taking orders from Will.

"Well the opportunity to avoid such a situation is in your own hands, simply do your job and keep out of trouble. That includes causing trouble Mr Adams, lay off the footmen and stay out peoples private affairs! Do we have an understanding?"

Adams nodded silently the prospect of demotion and of having to take orders from that cocky wee blighter Forest was more than enough to turn his stomach and quiet his temper. Glancing angrily at Jarvis Adams envisioned how nice it would be to pound that smug superior look off his face, instead he realised he'd have to settle for a more subtle form of revenge. "Will that be all Sir? As I'm sure Mr Kraus will need me in the kitchen, considering the amount of time he spends with Mrs Ryan gossiping instead of cooking I'm surprised we all haven't starved to death!"

Then seeing Jarvis's glare he pretended to back peddle. "Not that I'm complaining sir it must be nice for them both having so much in common and getting on so well, it's not often you find such a firm friendship, especially between a man and a woman, its always important to have other people to confide in I imagine?"

Jarvis frowned but decided not to pursue Mr Adams line of thought. "No that is not all Mr Adams! I have just been informed by his lordship that due to a mole infestation the village green is unavailable for the church fate on Saturday, as a favour to the Reverend his lordship has made available the back lawns here at Taplows." Adams groaned in annoyance, not the rag tag mob from the village descending on them here? Jarvis pointed raised an eyebrow to stall anymore vocal protestations.

"The Earl has decided that for the duration of this event he will visit his cousin down in Devon and as such will require a small retinue, his valet, coachman and a footman, however as both Lady Caroline and Lady Mary will remain at Taplows so will I, at his lordships insistence. I have decided to send Mr Cosmo with his lordship unless you would rather go yourself?"

Adams shook his head, the trip to Devon would have meant no whiskey for several days and that was just too long.

"Excellent, now off you go Mr Adams we wouldn't want to keep the superb Mr Kraus waiting would we?" Jarvis added his tone a little sharper than that he normally used when talking about the Chef and Adams smiled to himself as he opened the door the seed of doubt had been successfully planted.

Cut to the stables, where later that morning, Will had been given the undesirable task of mucking out and grooming the horses, a punishment handed out by Mr Adams whom, adding to Will's seemingly (well at least to Will) endless string of bad luck, had been there waiting for him, tapping his watch and tutting at the footman's lateness. 'Here we are again eh Mr Forest?' he recalled the Scotsman gloating 'Now, what inauspicious task can I find for you to do this time? Of course it will be served out after the completion of your duties here.' After teasing Will with a number of options, he settled on the horses idea, muttering something about 'even those dumb animals' being able to 'teach Will a thing or too about efficiency'.

In his frustration, at dwelling on Mr Adams' assertions, Will didn't notice just how hard he was scrubbing Daisy, one of the Earl's prime stallions. Now to many people, Daisy is not the name one would normally give to a stallion, or indeed any horse, but the Earl, never one for logic, seemed settled on that name and so it had stuck. However, totally out of the blue, the horse began to get very restless, which alerted Will, as he tried to calm it down, patting its backside; the horse lifted its left leg and in a flash kicked Will, who fell against a cold stone wall, landing on the pile of dirty hay he had just raked up.

For a moment, he just sat there, slightly concussed, the back of his green jacket and cream trousers smeared with excrement - this was all he needed. It wasn't long before self-pity started to take its hold, and thoughts returned to his father, and the letter that Lizzie had tried to get him to read earlier that morning. He hadn't had a letter for so long, and it was even longer since he'd actually read one of them. 'Why now?' he puzzled angrily, why now, when Will had managed to put the dreadful events to the back of his mind for a few months of near bliss, did his rouge of a 'father' choose to bring them all back again?

'I don't know and I don't care' Will resolved in answer to that one. But as he struggled to get back on his feet, doubts began to creep up on him. Just what did he want? Another bottle of Scotch? Not that Will had ever sent him one, or indeed anything else. Another visiting order perhaps? 'Yeah, when hell froze over' Will scoffed. But then a possibility which made Will freeze, suddenly came to mind. He knew it had been quite sometime now, but no where near as long as he deserved for what he'd done.

Unable to maintain this thread, as that eventuality was simply unthinkable to Will, he dragged himself up, gave Daisy, who had now turned to face him with his big brown eyes, a thunderous stare, and with that, the rather soiled footman attempted to return, undetected to the house. It was now getting on for dinner time he thought, so all the others would be in the dining room, leaving Will to clean himself up, hopefully without being seen. But then the flip-side of the situation suddenly dawned, he'd have to go without lunch too. Although ordinarily this would have been a fate worse than death for him, missing two meals on the trot, it was better than the alternative - another smug grin from Adams.

Meanwhile the upper servants were settling down for lunch, well most of them were. Mr Jarvis sat at the head of the table glaring at anyone who dared to glance in his direction or raised the courage to enquire as to the whereabouts of both Chef and Mrs Ryan. Where were they Jarvis wondered? Trying desperately to push from his mind those not so subtle accusations of Mr Adams; however this was not the first time rumours had come to his attention concerning the pair not to mention the time he himself had caught her in his room, his head resting on her chest.

No nothing was going on, Felix had never shown any particularity towards Flora in fact their relationship although close had never before given him cause for concern, he had at one point been jealous that Flora seemed to confide first in Felix before him, so was that why was he now wary and defensive when ever they were mentioned together like that, their names linked? Suddenly the door opened and in they walked; together, laughingly like a couple of school children and for a moment Jarvis felt angry and almost jealous, damn Felix nobody else should be able make her light up like that, that was his job. So as they both walked over to take their seats next to him and he couldn't resist the urge to reprimand the pair for their tardiness.

"Well Well we had almost given up hope of you two joining us for lunch!"

"Sorry Mr Jarvis," Felix replied trying desperately to suppress the new wave of giggles that threatened, glancing across the table he could see that Flora was having the same problem. "It's is all my fault I had insisted Mrs Ryan gave me a hand with something the kitchen and you know how one thing leads to another?" He said smiling broadly at Jarvis. However his comment had quite the opposite effect on Jarvis to that he had expected instead of relaxing the butler actually seemed to bristle.

"Perhaps its time we got you some more kitchen staff then Mr Kraus after all Mrs Ryan's is not paid to do the job of a scullery maid!" Jarvis retorted earning a bemused glance form Flora.

"I wasn't aware Mr Jarvis that there was a set list of duties for a housekeeper or that I was abandoning my responsibilities by helping in the kitchen?"

"The point I am trying to make Mrs Ryan is that……" Jarvis began flustered before Flora teasingly cut in.

"What point would that be Mr Jarvis?" She said smiling coyly, twirling her soup spoon provocatively round her fingers.

Jarvis now crimson with anger snapped back her, "I was trying to find you all morning as there have been some important household developments however as I was unable to locate you I had to go ahead and make my decisions without consulting you first, as a result you are just going to accept them as they stand!"

Flora drew back from the table Walter had never spoken to her in that tone of voice before and to do it in front of the other upper servants was unbelievable. All the colour drained out of her face and seeing that he'd upset her Jarvis's temper cooled and he continued in a much calmer voice. "As I was saying the Earl has agreed to let the village fate be held on the back lawns here at Taplows, he however will not be present as he has decided to go and visit his cousin down in Devon for the weekend."

"I see; will you be going with him?" She asked raising her eyes off the tablecloth to look him straight in the eye.

"Fortunately the Earl has decided to only take a small retinue, his valet, coachmen and a footman, I hope you approve but I have already decided to send Mr Cosmo he seems to have a lot of pent up energy he needs to release and this trip should do him the world of good." He said a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, wishing he could reach over and take her hand in his to reassure her he was no longer angry and was sorry for his outburst.

The rest of the meal was a very tense affair; the staff were aware of the brief lover's quarrel between Mr Jarvis and Mrs Ryan and all endeavoured to finish their lunch as quickly as possible just to escape the charged atmosphere. Wiping his mouth with his napkin Chef stood up and prepared to leave glancing over at the pair he noticed that neither of them had eaten more than a few bites of their meal, Flora looked up and noticing his imminent departure made a start to leave herself but Felix waved her away motioning for her to stay behind, "Actually Mrs Ryan I think I can manage this afternoon, don't worry if get really stuck again I will ask for your able assistance."

"Excellent", Jarvis butted in answering for her, "that will give Mrs Ryan and I the chance to go over the preparations that need to be made for the upcoming fate, if you will meet me in my office at your earliest convenience Mrs Ryan? After all I wouldn't want to make unnecessary demands on your time!" He said standing up from the table and striding over to the door and back to his office.

For a moment Flora remained stunned and sitting at the table, then her own temper got the better of her and she stormed out of the dining room and down the corridor to his office. Slamming open the door she strode over to Jarvis who had sat down at his desk his book of figures opened and untouched in front of him but his watch open and in his hand.

"Two minutes….quite impressive! Maybe I should send you to the village whenever my watch needs correcting?"

Outraged Flora knocked his watch out of his hand, "how dare you?" Jarvis opened his mouth to speak but he never got the chance. "How dare you speak to me like that? In front all those people, reprimanding me as if I were nothing better than I common scullery maid!" Flora ranted.

"Maybe if you were doing your job properly instead of skulking about everywhere with Felix Kraus I wouldn't find it necessary!" Jarvis bellowed back rising out of his chair to stare her down.

"Felix is my friend and he's had a very difficult time of it lately!" She replied defensively

"Yes and you seem to be doing everything in your power to make him feel better!" Jarvis added in an acerbic tone.

"Well why shouldn't I?"

"Why shouldn't you? I despair that you even need to ask such a question!" He said grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "God damnit why are you always with him and never me, the only time I see you these days is before we go to bed, and even then more often than not you turn your back on me. Why don't you talk to me, rather than him, I'm the one you are supposed to be in love with!"

"Do you think you have some sort of ownership over me or something, and can therefore decide who I am permitted to be friends with and who I can spend my time with? Or are you just sulking because last night, for the first time, I didn't feel like it, I'd told you I haven't been feeling myself." Flora demanded pushing away from him and stalking over to the door. "Well let me remind you Walter Corey at no time have you promised to put a ring on my finger and until that day comes I belong to no man, I am not your property and I will spend my own time as I wish!" With a last angry glance she flung the door open and stormed out into the corridor.

Cut to the Lower Servants dining room where at last everyone, which, for the first time today, included Will, was assembled for dinner. The first footman had sat himself down by Fred - BIG mistake, as his neighbour began complaining of a rather off-putting smell, but joked that it wasn't that different to how he normally smelled - a comment not gracefully received by a hunger-stricken Will. There was also an air of anticipation, as Charlotte had been cooped up in the kitchen preparing the meal for a good two hours, and had promised them an old favourite. Currently, bets were being taken on which one it would be.

"I'm gonna bit the bullet and say beef stroganoff" Will declared

"Nah mate, she did that old chestnut last time" George reminded him

"Well what do you suggest then?" he challenged

"Its gotta be something she hasn't done for a while." reasoned Lizzie "Can you think of anything Grace?"

"I'll bet its cottage pie!" Grace chirped up, rather assuredly, which did not go unnoticed by Joe

"You sound pretty sure of yourself, you've had some inside information haven' you?" he taunted

"NO!" Grace refuted

"You little fibber Grace May!" scolded Susan "You told me you'd seen Johnny fetching a load of potatoes in for her!"

Grace, now turning a suitable shade of pink conceded "That maybe true, but that doesn't mean it will be Cottage Pie does it!"

"No, but you can't exactly do anything imaginative with a spud can you?" said Fred in a rather (put on) deflated tone "Nice one Grace, you've gone and spoilt my visions of an alle carte five course feast now!"

Before Grace could get a word in edgeways, Charlotte swept across the room with two large dishes, one in each hand, announcing "Well it may not be anything particularly wonderful, or extravagant to suit your refined palette Frederick, but I didn't hear you complaining last time. Quite the opposite in fact, did my ears deceive me, or did you actually call it exquisite?" She teased, placing the two great dishes in the centre of the table, as the vegetables were already in place.

All around the table, people rose ever-so-slightly out of their seats, peering over the rims of the two dishes to see two piping hot Shepard's Pies, fully garnished.

"Oh you beauty!" exclaimed Fred, a wide grin, which showed his pearly whites creeping across his face.

"Well, I was close!" added Grace, rising out of her seat to help Charlotte serve the dish.

"So close, yet so far" reminded Will with a wink, as he tucked in hungrily, clearly having forgotten how to use his knife and fork properly.

Unable to avoid this opportunity to have a dig at his young rival, Mr Adams set about lecturing him on the virtues of dinner table etiquette, which were lost upon Will, who simply ignored the old stooge, and carried on eating for England.

As the meal drew to a close, it became quite noticeable that Lizzie who was sat opposite, next but one to Will, was subtly trying to gain his attention, but each time their eyes met, she got the same, 'now is not the time' warning. Finally, as the tableware was being collected up, she decided that as neither she nor Will were on cleaning up duties that evening, to make this the time, before anything had the chance to get in the way.

Initially, Will was too quick for her, leaving the table whilst she was still in a slight daze, contemplating what to say, but as she moved swiftly down the corridor after him, she soon caught up. At first he tried putting her off, assuring her that although he welcomed her concern, it was not warranted, as there was nothing of consequence to worry about. But when Lizzie reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope she had managed to save, Will, not wanting anyone else to see it, or overhear the conversation that was to follow, opened a side door, and dragged Lizzie in.

"Its not going to go away Will, even if you dispose of this one, you know they'll be more" Lizzie said hastily before Will could even get started.

"Dont you think I know that?" he scoffed, gathering his thoughts

Lizzie persisted "Please Will, just take a look at what he has to say." she pleaded

"What, so he can just drag everything back up again - no thanks" Will stood firm

"Can't you see, you've already done that!" A remark that was met with a rather amazed look from Will, so she continued to explain herself, calmly. "I meant that the subject has already been raised. I feel awful for having provoked you into revealing what you did, but there is nothing either of us can do about that now. All I can do is offer you my support, but you have to be willing to help yourself too, and I think that in reading this, it may not be of great help, but neither of great hindrance."

Will's face softened as he began to comprehend what she was saying. "But what if ..." he struggled, loosing his thread, and staring at the floor.

"There so many possible what ifs Will, but we wont know anything for sure until you see what he has to say and if it isn't pleasant, then, then at least you'll have found out, and I'll be here" he voice got softer as she went along, walking towards Will, holding the letter out to him.

Will started at it, watching it with equal fascination and fear as it got nearer, but then sharply turned away. At which, Lizzie reached out, putting her hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face her, as her hand slid down and grasped his (hand). She looked up at him and let her eyes do the pleading. Slowly and unsurely, Will raised his free arm and took Lizzie's face in his hand, stroking her cheek tenderly. After only a few seconds, the same hand reached down and took the envelope from her left hand, at which she raised a little smile, but he couldn't muster one.

Lizzie squeezed Will's hand, commending him on taking that step, then slipped her hand out of his. "Take as long as you need, theres no rush, I'll be just outside, whenever your ready ..." Lizzie began

"No, no, stay here with me" he replied quickly, almost fearfully, before she even had chance to make for the door.

"Okay, alright. I'll, just give you some space" she assured him, walking across to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, hands clasped behind her back.

As it was now getting a little dark, Will walked over to the window, dragging his heels, cautiously opening the envelope after a last glance at Lizzie for Dutch courage.

He began reading, remaining quiet and motionless for sometime which, Lizzie thought, could only be a good sign. Initially it was, as he did his best to read the scrawlings, having to squint on occasion, Will thought to himself, just the same old same old, he's still rotting away. But suddenly, on reading only half of the first sentence of the final paragraph, Will let out a gasped "no!" and proceeded to begin tearing the retched thing to shreds.

An alarmed Lizzie sprang out of her relaxed position, running over to the clearly incensed footman, doing her best to calm him. "Will. what are you doing!" she cried as she tried to prise the letter from his tight grasp, only to have the remnants scatter to the floor.

She bent down and ran her fingers through the small pile of confetti-like pieces. By now Will had fallen against the window, caught only by his elbows which were resting on the window ledge. Lizzie looked up at him, he had his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. She slowly raised herself and began rubbing his shoulders before trying to assess the situation. "Will, what's happened?"

At first he was unable to speak, sick with anger that the eventuality which he had found so utterly inconceivable earlier was actually now about to become reality. Lizzie rolled him over to face her, his shoulder blades now resting against the window pane. He dragged his head up to face her straight on and stammered as he attempted to hold back his all-consuming anger "They, theyre going to ... release him."

Lizzie's eyes widened and her bottom lip trembled at this latest haunting revelation. "Oh Will..." was all she could manage in reply before taking him in her arms, holding him tight, as they were both shaking.

Unknown to Will, his nightmare had already begun, as the even greater delay in postage from prisons, meant that this letter had been received almost a month after it had been written. If Will had only continued to read the letter, he would have discovered that his father was already, very much a free man.

Next morning, after an uncomfortable night's sleep, Jarvis wakes to find himself in his own bed and staring at his own ceiling. He had almost forgotten what is was like to sleep in his own bed, not because he had been away from it for so long but because he had pushed to the back of his mind the feelings of loneliness and the long nights of thinking he had done while Flora had been away, and indeed before they had even begun their relationship. But here he was, back under his own covers, and once again the sense of emptiness had crept over him, pinning him to the mattress and not letting him get up to face the day ahead.

Thoughts of seeing Flora and Felix together, laughing and joking, brewed up in him a sense of jealousy so strong that he surprised himself, and the longer he continued to lie there the greater the jealousy grew. In the end he has worked himself up into such an agitated state that he began to imagine them laughing at his expense and concocting ways to make him look a fool in front of the other staff through their far too friendly behaviour; silly old Walter thinking that a woman like Flora would actually want to be with him forever. Sighing heavily, he notes the time and throws back the covers, and with a deep frown proceeds to follow through his old morning routine.

Half an hour later, at the upper servants breakfast table, Flora and Kraus are in deep conversation about an amusing event involving Johnny, a bucket of swill and two angry pigs when Mrs Diggins piped in, completely changing the subject and taking Flora and Kraus by complete surprise.

Mrs D Pouring herself a cup of tea and announcing: My Weightwatcher lady friends think that I need a new hobby, so I intend to learn how to ride Mr Benjamin.

Both Felix and Flora look at each other in mild amusement and in puzzlement, then back at Mrs Diggins. Mr Benjamin was a fine old mare, named after an old stable hand who worked at Taplows for many years and provided loyal service until he retired in 1840. The Earl, as he was known to do, decided the best way to honour his dedication was to name an animal after him after his death, to Jarvis' well-hidden disapproval

Kraus hiding a small smile but with obvious humour in his voice: Mr Benjamin, Mrs Diggins? I didn't know you have an interest in horses.

Mrs D looking decidedly put-out: There are lots of things you don't know about me, Mr Kraus, including my name a lot of the time! I hope you don't think I'm too old to take up a new interest?

Kraus beaming: On the contrary, both Mrs Ryan and I think it is a delightful idea. Isn't that right, Mrs Ryan?

He looks at Flora, who nods politely in agreement, although she can see an amused glint in his eyes

Flora: It's excellent, Mrs Diggins. Johnny is going to taking older children at the fate on horse rides around the estate, so maybe you could go with them for your first lesson?

Mrs D a look of shock on her face at such an affront: I am not going to learn to ride along with children, Mrs Ryan! I will have one-to-one tuition, and not with that accident prone stable boy!

Before Mrs Ryan can reply, the door flies open and Jarvis storms in, purposefully late. Everyone turns to stare at him, but he completely ignores their interest in his sudden presence and snatches a piece of toast from the table without sitting down (to Mrs Diggins' pure horror, as she was to comment on time and time again later to anyone in earshot). Glancing at the blank faces, he continues to stand as he sloppily pours himself a cup of luke-warm tea, downs it in one go as if he were Adams on a whisky binge, slams down his cup just hard enough that it would clatter without breaking, and then moves back towards the door, now with two pieces of dry toast between finger and thumb. Stopping by the door, he turns to Kraus and Flora who have still failed to speak

Jarvis without a hint of emotion in his voice: Staff meeting in ten minutes please, Mr Kraus, Mrs Ryan. Usual place.

Without even waiting for a 'yes' or a nod, he turns on his heels and marches through the still open door, closing the door behind him much less vigorously than he would have secretly liked to have done. Flora and Kraus exchange glances again as Mrs Diggins harrumphs disapprovingly at the butler's rude behaviour

Mrs D Rising from the table: I DO NOT understand what is wrong with Mr Jarvis lately! He is being most unprofessional! Never in all my years of service…..oh, I don't know! And with that she roughly bundles up her napkin, placing it on the table, and exits the room

Next scene. Half way through the staff meeting and Jarvis is talking about the arrangements for the stalls. Susan is at the front looking bored, perched on the table and swinging her legs, while Fred is stood behind her and trying to taunt her by pulling her hair. She shoots him an angry glance and tries to wriggle forward as he feigns an innocent expression, Will sniggering at his side. Usually Jarvis would have noticed such behaviour in the staff meetings by keeping a firm eye on the lower servants, but this time he is distracted by the constant giggling and nudging of Kraus and Flora

Kraus quietly to Mrs Ryan: But can you imagine! Mrs Diggins on a horse! She would squash the poor creature flat before it could move out of the stables!

Jarvis trying to fix his gaze on the wall but becoming increasingly frustrated:...and the coconut shy will as usual be the most popular feature, so it will need good attendance at all times. Frederick and Joseph, I think the locals will find you two a good addition to the coconuts, considering where they are shipped from, so I would like both of you to make yourselves available to hand out the balls.

Fred and Joseph exchange furious glances at Jarvis' comments, but he appears to fail to notice, his stare having firmly settled upon the housekeeper and the chef. He is convinced they are laughing at him; making crude comments no doubt. He neglects to stop the tone of his voice from turning sharp, anger rising in his chest

Jarvis: So, I hope everyone knows where they are meant to be tomorrow. A word of warning to you Mr Forest, and Mr Cosmo, when you're supervising the duck shooting stall please do NOT get in the way of the pellets. I heard a horror story from last year's fate on the green when Jeremy the butcher's son from the town was helping out on that very stall. He still can't walk properly, his butcher career is most certainly over before it has begun and he has been told in no uncertain terms his prospects for a family of his own have now been seriously diminished. Do I make myself clear?

George and Will's faces have turned a nice shade of ivory as they gulp and look worriedly at each other, while Susan and Grace snigger into their hands

Jarvis: We will re-convene briefly tomorrow morning, but that is all for now. Dismissed.

Everyone immediately begins to leap into action, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Felix and Flora are still falling about laughing at Mrs Diggins when Jarvis approaches them

Jarvis without looking her in the eye: Mrs Ryan, could you stay behind a minute so I can discuss your ladies' movements tomorrow in more detail?

Kraus, his expression turning a little sour at the obvious snub to him, leaves for the kitchens without a word. Jarvis waits until everyone has left, Flora standing uneasily at a distance from him twiddling her fingers nervously. She is angry at herself for feeling intimidated by him - why should she? If he couldn't accept her friendship with Felix then that was his problem, men and their egos!

Flora trying to act business-like in their encounter: So, my ladies for tomorrow...

Jarvis stepping towards her, his face like thunder: Oh, forget that!

Flora stops mid-sentence, the colour draining from her cheeks as his temper gets the better of him.

Jarvis: Why are you doing this to me! Are you getting me back for something, is that it? That stupid joke with the peacock!

Flora managing to suppress the tears, but quaking in her voice: The peacock has nothing to do with anything! Why are you doing this to ME more like! It is you who chose to sleep apart from me last night...

Charlotte appearing in the doorway: Mrs Ryan? You had better come quick, Grace is so upset, her Lord Harry quilt had been pecked to death by Mrs Stan... by the peacock during the night of the ball! She's only just found it!

Charlotte, seeing it is an awkward moment, hurries away down the corridor. Flora looks back at Jarvis, who is shaking his head and pacing the room. He feels he will explode if he says one more word to her, so waves his hand in her direction as a signal to leave while facing the window. Flora, unable to contain the tears any longer, wipes them away from her cheeks and exits, but Jarvis suddenly changes his mind, rushing to the door and looking out into the corridor. She is just disappearing around the corner when he decides to shout, not really caring if she hears or not

Jarvis: That's right, run away! Just using me are you! Am I just a bit of physical pleasure to you and nothing more, eh, MRS RYAN! A bit of trouser, slap and tickle! A plaything you can discard, one of His Lordship's dog's bones to be chewed up then spat out! Well I'm not, I may not be your darling sensitive Felix but I have feelings too you know!

His ranting over with, he sighs and turns, only to see Adams standing there, smirking away while leaning against the wall. Resisting the urge to punch his lights out, Jarvis stalks past him, but Adams can't resist a little dig

Adams: Surely your woman isn't straying already, Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis grinds to a halt, walking back to Adams and staring him in the face, deciding against grabbing him by the throat despite his under-butler's smugness

Jarvis speaking dangerously quietly, prodding him in the chest: Very, very, VERY thin ice, Mr Adams. I know you're drinking again, you stink! One more word about...oh, you disgust me, now get back to work, if you can remember what that is!

After a final death glare Jarvis huffs and carries on down the hall, Adams still grinning with not much intention on doing any work in the slightest. Thinking up jibes, he considers, is far more fun.

After the initial moaning and griping over who had been assigned which task, the fate preparations were now in full swing. The coconuts, specially imported from the West Indies had arrived before schedule , throwing one or two of the lower servants into disarray, as they hadn't a clue what the funny hairy things were, luckily Mr Kraus was on hand to educate them. They had been ordered on the insistence of the Earl as apparently, the new concept of coconut shies were all the rage at country fates, or at least they were with the Fiffington-Piffles.

Once that little melodrama was overcome, and the target boards set up for the archery contest, all five footmen now took on the job of erecting the may pole. Now, it may have seemed a little strange to say May pole at this time of the year, but that was the only term they could think of for the 15 foot pole wrapped in multi-coloured ribbons. It was to be used by the Morris dancers, but no one was going to be using it at the moment as it was still flat on the ground, the ribbons tangled up no end.

"Awwwww, stuff this for a laugh!" cried Fred who was quickly loosing his patience, trying to undo the knots. "Can't we get some of the girls to do it? Never been good at sowing me"

"You've never been good at anything mate!" taunted Will as he had drawn the longest straw, as his was the least tangled section.

Unable to think of a sufficient retort so quickly, Fred just gave Will the evil eye and let out a "grrrr" from behind gritted teeth.

"They couldn't, even if we asked them" reminded George "Mrs Ryan's had them chained to the kitchen worktops all morning, baking for Britain"

"Oooooh, I'm not arguing with that!" exclaimed Joe rubbing his stomach, which was beginning to rumble.

Johnny was the first to finish unravelling his section, as the cocky Will had spoken too soon, just having struck upon a huge knot, which was annoyingly of his own making.

"Need a hand there mate?" teased Fred who was highly amused to see Will struggling with a nice pink ribbon. "You know, if you grew your hair, that's definitely your colour for bunches!" he continued

"Nah, I'd say more of a butter cup yellow" George joined in "Set his complexion off a treat"

Their jibes soon subsided as Will announced "Ha ha!" as he had managed to unravel the blessed thing, sitting down on the grass, arms and legs folded in satisfaction, as the remaining three continued

Now the back breaking work commenced, the hauling up of the pole, which at first went rather less than smoothly, crashing to earth at least thrice, on one occasion (albeit not from a very great height) landing on Johnny's foot, who then limped off back to the house when mass-sympathy was not forthcoming. After a series of to-me, to-yous, they finally managed to get the thing vertical, and began securing it in position with a number of ropes tied to pins in the ground.

As all four stood back to admire their handiwork, Lizzie approached them carrying a tray of lemon crush. The workers each grabbed a glass, and began throwing the liquid down their throats. But, this treat wasn't all it seemed, indeed, these were the first of a series of trial runs, which the girls had since bettered, but did not want to waste their efforts. The first batch was found to have been WAY too sour, which the lads were just about to find out.

George was the first to detect the extreme bitterness, quickly projecting the fluid from his mouth, as Will and Fred followed suit. But, Joe continued drinking, looking at the others as if to say 'what's wrong with it?'

"Urgh!" exclaimed Fred, scratching his tongue with his fingernails (not the most hygiene conscious our Fred) to get the sharp sensation off of his taste buds pronto.

"I CANNOT believe you just let me put that in my mouth!" reiterated Will, closely followed by a "What the hell are you playing at!" from George, who was almost doubled over, hands on his knees.

"Well I dunno what your all moaning at mun, delightful Lizzie" Joe charmed, placing his beaker back on the tray and wiping his mouth.

"Have you COMPLETELY lost your sense of taste!" George spouted, bending out of his lowly position to stand tall.

"Nah, he's just trying to get in with the ladies" asserted Fred, with a crafty wink

George was about to agree with his comrade, but noticed a small look of disdain from Will towards Fred and then Joe, so decided to keep that opinion to himself. Instead he simply enquired "Hey Liz, is Grace busy at the moment then?"

But before Lizzie could answer, Will snapped out of his stare. "No time for those shenanigans here mate, we've got to put that ruddy thing up next" he reminded, indicating to a massive heap of canvas in the centre of the lawn, which would, hopefully, be the marquee.

All present turned to look at it, and their eyes widened as they began to comprehend the scale of their next challenge. Lizzie let out a giggle and exclaimed "Yeah, good luck with that!" taking Will's beaker from his hand, placing it on the tray with the other three.

Before she could move to return to the house, George caught her arm, asking after Grace again, as he wanted to see her before he departed with the Earl that evening. When Lizzie told him of Grace's distress, he left his fellow footman, shouting at him as he and Lizzie jogged back to the house. Will, Fred and Joe were now left to take on a construction project, which would make the Great Exhibition hall look like a cottage.

Cut to the kitchen, where the maids are still up to their elbows in cake baking. The situation would have been much worse had Mr Kraus not stepped in, at the request of Mrs Ryan, to replace Grace as chief jam maker, as she was being consoled by Mrs R over the sorry state of her beloved quilt. Having done their best to salvage the crocheted throw, and Grace having cheered up a little, both women had just returned to the kitchen. Grace took over from Mr Kraus, who then joined Mrs Ryan over the other side of the room to prepare the delicacies

"Are you feeling better now Grace?" Susan said, showing her concern.

"Yeah" agreed Grace, raising a little smile and nodding gently "I just cant understand why? Why the Little Lord Harry one?"

"The Lord works in mysterious ways" philosophised Charlotte, a statement that caused Grace and Susan to exchange cynical glances as Susan carried on, kneading her dough.

Before resuming her strawberry chopping, Grace replied (in a grave tone of voice) "Indeed", raising an eyebrow.

The work continued peacefully for a few moment, the only interruptions coming from the two senior staff in the corner, who were still in stitches over Mrs Diggins and her horse riding hopes, each trying to come up with outrageous outcomes to the most unprecedented of events. Suddenly the door opened, Lizzie had returned from her stint as a refreshment waitress.

She addressed Mrs Ryan, informing her that Mr Jarvis needed to see Grace regarding the use of fruit for the jams. The housekeeper did think it odd that the butler be concerned with such a trifling matter, but resolved that he was being so childish lately, that this was probably just another attempt to gain her attention. Uninterested in trying to counter his wishes, Flora waved Grace out the door.

However, far from Mr Jarvis requesting the pleasure of Grace's company, she soon found out who had truly issued her summons - George was waiting around the corner for her. With a smile, he took her hand, kissed is tenderly, leading her up the corridor and continuing up the stairs.

Back in the kitchen, things were soon running like clockwork once more after Mrs Ryan had made the comment that since Mr Kraus had left them to it, the maids had made very little progress at all, which did not go down well with the girls.

When both she and Mr Kraus were safely out of hearing distance, their discontent surfaced. "Who does she think she is? We've been slaving away all bloody morning!" moaned Susan "If she thinks she can do any better, be my guest ..." she continued, inviting Mrs Ryan over with a hand gesture.

Unluckily for Susan, at this particular moment, the lady to whom it was directed glanced up from her companion. Susan froze, but then quickly began to rotate her hand around her arm and complained aloud of cramp, which managed to have the desired effect

"And bloody Grace has been dragged off by Mr Jarvis, wonder what that's all about." Before Lizzie could have a chance to explain, Susan continued, now in full-rant mode. "Whats up with him these days? You don't think it's got anything to do with those two. (Nodding her head towards the two friends in the corner) I mean, we've all heard what Johnny saw the other day"

"Don't be so silly Susan!" scolded Charlotte "You know full well that Johnny will say anything to get noticed these days, and I for one don't believe his latest concoction for a second"

"Neither do I" agreed Lizzie who finally got a word in edgeways "Anyway, its not Jarvis who has taken Lizzie, its George, he wants to see her before he leaves with the Earl later".

"Oh, well thats just fabulous, I mean-" Susan started up again, but was cut short as the door flung open to reveal Mr Jarvis. He scanned the room, but it was obvious that everything else in it hadn't the slightest consequence when his eyes fixed upon Flora and Felix.

Before he could utter a word, Flora was right in there "Grace manage to find you alright?" she enquired sternly.

In a state of confusion, partly because he wasn't sure how he was going to react at finding the pair together yet again, and partly because he didn't have a clue what his seemingly estranged love was on about.

"Yes, Grace left around fifteen minutes ago, surely she should have found you by now". added Mr Kraus.

"What in blazes are you two whittling on about!" he demanded

Flora and Felix just looked at each other, as if to jointly concur that Jarvis was loosing his marbles. For a split second, Lizzie entertained the idea of stepping in to smooth things out, but she knew that this would have repercussions for George and Grace, so remained quite.

Clearly running out of patience, Jarvis continued hesitantly "Mrs Ryan, could you please come with me a moment? A new batch of fruit has just arrived from the village, and Id like you to select those needed for your baking."

Flora started at him in amazement thinking 'Hadn't he just asked Grace to do that?' but this time, she decided to humour him, after rolling her eyes at Felix who knew exactly what she meant. She got up and walked over to Mr Jarvis, keeping eye contact with him the whole way, stopping inches in front of him. She gave a sultry smile and enquired "Shall we then?" as she turned and walked out of the door.

For a moment, Walter just stood there, he didn't jump for joy that he'd separated them for a few precious moments, he just gave one last look glaring look at Felix, who was now convinced that his friend was completely deranged, and simply gave a genuine smile, which was not reciprocated by Jarvis.

Later that evening. Flora and Kraus have arrived for dinner, but are surprised to find they are the only ones in the dining room. Kraus, more than put out that everyone seems less than bothered they are missing his cuisine, begins to serve himself and Flora, angrily slapping the food down on the plates in a fashion completely shocking to Flora. He practically throws her plate in front of her, thumping himself down into his chair and slumping back

Kraus: This is despicable! Where is Mr Jarvis! Where is Mrs Diggins? And the others!

Flora patting his arm soothingly: Calm yourself, Felix, I'm sure they'll be here. Remember Walter has had to see off the Earl and George, and as usual things are probably running a little late.

As she spoke, the door opened and to Flora's disappointment Mrs Diggins bustled in, a faint whiff of horses about her and straw stuck to her shoes. This manages to raise a smile in Felix, who rose from his seat, pulling out a chair for the lady's maid to settle herself into. Flora, a little confused, refrains from questioning Mrs Diggins for fear of reprisals and just smiles meekly at her, but before any more can be said there is a small tap on the door and Charlotte peeps her head round

Charlotte quietly: Sorry, Mrs Ryan, Mr Kraus, Mrs Diggins, but Mr Jarvis has requested he has his dinner in his room. Something to do with lots of figures to write.

Kraus snorting and throwing his arms in the air in annoyance: Well, that's just wonderful!

Flora rising from her chair and bustling around the plates and cutlery, but obviously rather upset: Never mind, Mr Kraus, as long as he gets something. If he wants dessert then he can come and get that himself.

Flora serves some food and arranges it onto a tray with wine and is just about to hand it to Charlotte when Kraus swooped in and released it from her grip

Kraus glancing at Flora and Mrs Diggins: I will take him his dinner, you ladies please start without me and I will be back momentarily!

Meanwhile, up in his room and standing by his window, Jarvis is furious. Furious with Flora, furious with Felix and furious with himself. Although it is quite dull outside it is another warm evening so he opens the window wide to feel the warm late summer air breezing across his face and slightly ruffling his hair, but this does nothing to lighten his mood. It is dinner time and he is hardly hungry – why he lets himself be put off his food by a woman, he thinks, he will never know. Glancing over his shoulder he sees his big book of figures lying open and untouched on his desk, his ink pot with its lid firmly on and his candle burning low.

He moves over to the desk, a look of deep concentration on his face when his eyes fall on the box of toffees Flora had brought him back from London. Not as exotic at the Italian book he had given to her, she had said modestly at the time, but it was either toffees or shag, but as he didn't smoke a pipe the former had had to do. Her face had been completely serious at the time so Jarvis had resisted any jokes, but he and Kraus had managed to have a good chuckle privately about it later. This thought made Jarvis smile for the first time that day, his anger momentarily alleviated, as he reached out and ran his fingers around the edge of the box before flipping the lid open and pinching a toffee. He was just about to pop it into his mouth when there was a firm knock on the door. Frowning to himself, he throws the sweet back into the box, slamming the lid shut. Glancing at his pocket watch, he sees it's 7.30. Strange, who would be knocking on his door at dinner time?

Jarvis loudly: Enter!

The door creaked open, to reveal Kraus standing in the doorway, clutching a tray and with a less than friendly expression on his face. Jarvis screwed up his lips and sat down in his chair, busying himself with his book

Jarvis: Hello, Mr Kraus, and what can I do for you? Shouldn't you be in the dining room?

Kraus stepping into the room without formally being asked: I think, Mr Jarvis, you should be asking yourself the same thing!

Jarvis dipping his quill in his ink: I'm sorry, but I've got work to do, can't stop to socialise tonight. You can put that tray there. Indicates to his bedside table

Kraus shaking his head and thumping Jarvis' desk, to the butler's great surprise: And no thank you for bringing you your meal! Do you have no manners left!

Jarvis looking up from his figures, unappreciativeness written all over him: YES, THANK YOU MR KRAUS!

Kraus huffs, hands firmly on his hips. In his sudden rage, Kraus flips the damned book of annoying figures shut, catching Jarvis' fingers in it in the process. Jarvis, in shock more than in pain, jumps up out of his chair which topples to the ground behind him with a loud clatter

Jarvis his face turning crimson: Mr Kraus, I ask that you leave me at once!

Kraus pointing accusingly, his accent growing stronger: Oh, Walter, you are being so unreasonable lately! What is the matter with you!

Jarvis moving from behind his desk and approaching Kraus: You, Mr Kraus, will have respect and call me…….!

Kraus sizing Jarvis up: Call you what, eh? Call you after a dog! Then I might as well call you Barnaby or Monty then, or maybe even after the old horse Mrs Diggins is learning to ride!

Jarvis, ballistic, roughly pushes Kraus up against the wall, grabbing him by his tie and raising his fist ready to make the first blow

Kraus hardly resisting: Come on then, if that's what you feel you need to do!

Suddenly a look of realisation dawned on Jarvis and he relaxed his grip. He didn't quite smile, but Kraus could see he was quite suddenly mildly amused

Jarvis: Did you just say Mrs Diggins is learning to ride a horse? Mr Benjamin?

Kraus, too angry with Jarvis to go into too much detail, merely nodded and gave a weak smile. After a second's thought, Jarvis quickly regained his wits and released Kraus, sighing in frustration and walking over to the window again, desperate for fresh air

Kraus Thinking Jarvis may have regretted his violent outburst and softening his confrontational tone: Yes, Flora….Mrs Ryan and I were laughing about that at the meeting this morning.

But Jarvis hadn't regretted it, far from it. His mood was as black as the days when Flora had initially left for London, if not worse.

Jarvis swinging round, his expression full of hate and his voice scarily quiet: Look, Mr Kraus, I don't know what game you and Mrs Ryan are playing, but you can stop it right now! You can find your own woman!

Kraus backing towards the door and trying not to smile: It is most certainly not what you think, Mr Jarvis……

Jarvis raising an eyebrow: Oh, is it not, Mr Kraus? Are you sure? Don't know if you've told Mrs Ryan that!

Before Kraus can retort, Adams appears in the doorway. Not for any particular reason, mainly just to gloat and to watch a good argument. Kraus turns round, grimacing when he sees him, but Jarvis cuts short his accusations and almost smiles cheekily at Adams

Jarvis an evil glint in his eye: I don't know what you're smirking about, Mr Adams. The clown's not turning up tomorrow, he's sick, so I've volunteered you for the job.


	2. Episode 2

The morning of the fate had arrived, though earlier than most for the footmen, who had been up since dawn after Fred had noticed in the early hours that the Marquee had collapsed on one side - he'd told Joe that it didn't look secure. All four remaining footmen dragged themselves out of bed and trudged, in an almost zombified fashion out onto the lawn at just gone half five. As if this wasn't enough to frustrate them, their patience was tested to the limit, as Johnny yet again finding a new lease of life vocally, persisted to complain about his (still) throbbing foot.

The maids were also getting an early, if not quite so early start, as they had the task of chopping up (even more) fruit as, on a taste test of the lemon curd tarts by Mrs Diggins (albeit in direct contradiction to her Weight Watchers plan), they were found to be not sweet enough, though they suspected that this wasn't quite true, as Mrs D informed them that she herself would dispose of them.

The only people getting a lie in around the Servants dwellings were for once, the senior staff, and of course Adams, who was still too intoxicated to have come round yet. On the other hand, in a repeat performance of yesterday morning, Jarvis had been awake for quite sometime, racking his brains as to the whole Flora and Felix fiasco, gently caressing the un-dented pillow next to his that Flora's sleepy-head should rightly have been resting upon. Oh how he missed the radiant vision of her asleep, to him, her beauty grew ten-fold, even though she had always protested that she wasn't at her best in the mornings. With a sigh, he decided that even though she wasn't there, there was no way he was missing her at the breakfast table, so dragged himself up, put on his best waistcoat, in the hope that this was going to be a better day.

However, when he reached the Upper Servants dining room, this better day wasn't quite true, indeed, it was more like de jar vu as Flora, Felix and Mrs Diggins were already there to greet him. For a second, as he stood in the doorway, only the first took his attention. Flora looked up and smiled at him, relieved that he had made it to breakfast, acknowledging so in saying "Good Morning Mr Jarvis, Id hoped your books would not keep you away too long"

He raised a little smile, but this was cut short as Mrs Diggins chipped in "Yes, how good of you to grace us with your presence Mr Jarvis" with a huff. At this, the smile vanished and from that point on, things were once again on a downhill slant, as Jarvis slumped down in his chair, and began chewing on a piece of crisp toast.

Cut to outside, more accurately to the lawn where the marquee has now been properly secured. With all staff present, an open-air staff meeting was being conducted by Mr Jarvis, who was desperately trying to ensure that the days events were going to go smoothly. However, this was going to be easier said than done, as there had been a number of unfortunate cases of last-minute unavailability, which meant that a few members of staff were about to get more than they had bargained for.

"Well, now that we are all clear on the schedule of events, there are a number of vacancies which I have been given orders to fill." he announced

At this, people looked around at each other, wondering what he could possibly have meant by that. Jarvis was for one of the first times a little apprehensive about issuing the tasks, as he knew that two in particular were not going to be well received.

"Mr Smith, the chief Morris dancer has informed the household that he is one show-man short, and, like all good artists, is refusing to take part, as at present, his team is not symmetrical, which by all accounts, is vital to the performance. Therefore, I have a favour to ask of you Mr Forest, as you are normally quick on your feet, that you take his place. From your resume I distinctly remember you mentioning dancing in your childhood, so would you do the honours?"

Will knew full well that he wasn't asking, so just remained silent, turning a rather distinct shade of beetroot red, even though he knew the dance history in his character was totally fictitious. Will shot a look at Adams, expecting him to be in stitches, but the Scotsman strangely remained expressionless (as Will would soon find out why). Fred couldn't believe his luck, and was as silently as Will was fuming, bursting at the seems. However, the smile was well and truly wiped of his face, as Jarvis continued ...

"Also, as we have gone a little over budget, I'm afraid that we couldn't afford to hire staff to do the Punch and Judy show. As this is always a firm favourite with the children in the village and we have our own set of equipment for such a production here, given to Lord Harry ... (he paused for a second, looking at Grace as if to say sorry) a few Christmases ago, we will put on our own version. Frederick and Joseph, I thought you'd like to try out your thespian skills for us. Of course you can choose between yourselves who will portray who".

Consoling themselves with the fact that at least their faces would be concealed, Fred and Joe launched into a 3-leg round of scissors, paper, stone. After some furious competing, Joe emerged the victor, and unsurprisingly elected to take the role of Punch, leaving Fred to put on his best high pitched voice to play Judy

If this was not humiliation enough for the male staff members, Jarvis, although he had already issued this task, couldn't resist, making it (to some extent) public knowledge. "And finally, I have a rather special task for one particular gentleman" he teased, slowly turning around to give Adams, who knew what was coming, a smug look.

"There is just one more vacancy that desperately needs filling, and I took some time in picking out a person, whom I thought most suited to the roll, who, could truly connect with the character, as it is another children's highlight. I won't give the game away Mr Adams, but I think its high time you went and prepared, as the guests will soon be arriving."

He reminded the maids to ensure that the flow of drinks would be kept constant, as today was a most gloriously sunny day, one not seen since the height of summer, and quite out of the ordinary for this early Autumn day. Finally, he turned to Mrs Ryan, who, had simply expected to be overseeing events. "Oh, I did forget one thing, I'm sorry I haven't had time to consult you on this Mrs Ryan, but would you be so kind as to read to the very youngest children? It's at Lady Caroline's request that they too be occupied, as she doesn't want them running amuck."

This was quite unexpected to say the least, and for a moment Flora, just looked at him (which he quite enjoyed, as that had not been a regular occurrence of late), but swiftly replied that she would. Secretly she was enraged - she was a housekeeper not a blasted nanny!

The meeting was dismissed with Will and Fred arguing over who would suffer the most shame, each trying to convince the other that their task was not that bad, but as adjudicator, Joe had to agree with Fred, that Will's Morris dancing would be a sight for saw eyes, adding that he wished George could be there to see it.

As the villagers began trickling into the grounds, the miniature fanfare was struck up, and all the stalls came to life. Will, was on duck shooting duty, after only half an hour, wishing that he had heeded Jarvis' advice, and stayed well back, as a stray pellet had just scuffed his cheek. Fred and Joe were meant to be looking after their stall, but had got distracted, showing of their juggling skills to two of the ladies from village. The maids were lined up inside the marquee, handing out the much improved lemon crush and various flavours of pastries and sponges.

Mrs Ryan had begun to rather enjoy her storytelling role, as her initial inhibitions melted away, as she found that the children were rather sweet. Mr Jarvis could not resist listening in on a few, in wonderment at how well she told the stories, in a very animated manner, he gazed at her fondly. However, one eye was firmly settled on Kraus who was at present helping Flora out, acting as the Big Bad Wolf, to compliment her narration. However, the Butler's attention was suddenly taken by the most satisfactory of sights, one that he could hardly contain his glee over - the sight of Andrew Adams, emerging sheepishly from the courtyard, in full clown attire!

Will trots over to Adams, a huge grin spread ear to ear as he points, throwing his head back in over-exaggerated laughter. Adams, scowling through his white and red face paint and dragging a bag full of juggling balls in one hand and a unicycle in the other, gives Will an almost murderous glare

Adams: Come near me, boy, and I'll flatten you!

Will clutching his stomach: What with! A fake kipper or smother me to death with a pie!

Adams, before even attempting to put on his baggy brightly coloured costume with oversized buttons, had downed half a bottle of whiskey without pausing for breath, waiting until the alcohol had begun to numb his senses. Instead, however, all it had done was make him unstable on his feet, as most clowns are meant to be, but also very, very, VERY depressed, which clowns are generally NOT meant to be. Still, he had thought, the children won't notice! Stupid little vermin. Flora looked up from her book about dragons, the children around her completely immersed in her storytelling. She smiled to herself, closing the book and leaning forward to talk to the children

Flora: Look over there! Who can you see?

The children all turn round in unison, their little faces lighting up as they begin jumping up and down and yelling in excitement

All: Yippee, it's a clown!

Boy 1: Oooh, he looks so silly, Mrs Ryan!

Flora chuckling: Yes, Robbie, he certainly does! Shall we go over and see what he's got in his big bag?

All the children leap up off the grass, skipping and jumping over to Adams who is standing, arms folded and looking in a foul mood, near to where Fred and Joseph are setting up the Punch and Judy. Seeing that the little brats are heading his way, he adjusts his fake flower so that he can give any of them who get on his nerves a good squirt of water right in the eye.

Jarvis walking up behind Adams and bending in to whisper: Be nice, now, and smile, don't want you frightening the poor little souls.

Adams forcing a grimace and muttering: Them frightened of me? I think you've got it the wrong way round, Mr Jarvis.

Boy 2 running energetically up to Adams and wrapping his small arms around Adams' waist, nearly pulling him over: Oooh I love clowns, they're my favourite! Can I see your flower, Mr Clown, can I, can I!

Mrs Ryan her gaze fixed on Adams who is growing redder through his make-up, she gently directs the boy away to sit on the grass with the others: Come on now, Timmy, sit down, I'm sure you'll get to see the flower later.

Timmy releases Adams, who is inches away from bopping the child on the head with his oversized glove, and waves frantically at him, beaming his little head off as he sits cross-legged on the grass. Adams, growling, catches Jarvis' eye who then shakes his head at Adams mouthing 'play nice'

Adams swaying slightly as his giant boots flop around, stretches his arms out and reluctantly smiles brightly at the eager faces: Ho, ho, children, my name is…. McClown!

Grace nudging Susan and standing on her tip-toes to get a good look at the under-butler making a fool of himself: Colin? What sort of name is that for a clown!

Adams: Can I have a volunteer please!

Twelve eager hands shot up, pleading and hopeful looks on their faces

Adams winking: I only choose the very, very good boys and girls.

The children stop shouting 'me, me me!' and sit very neatly and silently, their arms still firmly in the air. In a moment of kindness, (which Adams completely derided himself for later, disgusted with himself) he points to Timmy to come and join him at the front. Yelping with delight, little Timmy the cobbler's son springs to his little feet and trots over to Adams, sheer delight radiating from him.

Adams bends down to talk to Timmy but tries not to get too close for fear of little Timmy suddenly bursting out 'you smell like daddy does when he's been to the pub' or something to that effect

Adams loud enough so everyone can hear: So, Timothy, how old are you?

Timmy grinning and pointing at a little wooden badge pinned proudly to his jacket: I'm five today, Mr McClown sir!

Adams patting him GENTLY on the head: Five! Well, well, you ARE becoming a big fellow, aren't you, son?

Timmy blushes, hugging himself and swinging from side to side

Adams: Do you like flowers, Timmy?

Timmy nodding frantically: Yes, they're pretty!

Kraus To Flora: Oh, he's not going to drench the poor boy is he?

Mrs Ryan, unable to answer, just looks worriedly over at Adams. There wasn't a lot they could do but watch

Adams: I want you to check up my sleeves – can you see anything?

Timmy Peering up Adams' sleeves with extreme curiosity as the other children all lean forward equally interested: I can only see your arms, Mr McClown, sir!

Adams: Tap my right arm.

Confused, but not about to disobey the instructions of a professional, Timmy does as asked then stands back. Adams, grinning at the sheer simplicity of their enjoyment, reaches up his right sleeve then quick as lightening whips out a bunch of fake brightly coloured flowers. Timmy and the other children smile and clap, giggling away as Flora and Kraus breathe a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

Timmy in wonderment: How did you do that!

Adams winking again, tapping his nose: Ah, a clown never reveals his secret, m'laddie!

For his next trick, Adams pulls a long string of handkerchiefs from his left sleeve – so long that Timmy has to keep pulling and pulling until a small glimpse of boredom creeps over the five-year-old's face. Noticing this, and that the other children have started to chatter amongst themselves, Adams realises its probably time for the unicycle, though not before he can sneak another gulp or two of alcohol.

At first he doesn't know how to tackle it. The unicycle seems most unstable and George and Will has to hold onto it just so he can attempt to step up and try to seat himself on top of it. His vision has already begun to blur after downing more whiskey than he anticipated behind the Punch and Judy tent while the children were distracted by Mrs Stanwick (of the peacock variety) bounding across the lawn, but as it squawked off into the distance again the children had begun chanting for 'McClown' to come back to entertain them further. Building up his resolve, and firmly ignoring the jibes from Will and hysterical laughter from George, he leans0 on them and hurls himself upwards, precariously balancing on the seat. Why oh why hadn't Jarvis given him time to practice? One glance at Jarvis, standing at the edge of the spectacle and looking highly amused, gave him his answer. What Jarvis doesn't know, of course, is that Adams is absolutely intoxicated and can hardly stand on his own to (currently ginormous) feet let alone pedal on a one-wheeled contraption with no handlebars let alone breaks. Will and George suddenly let go, without warning, and dash out of the way before Adams can come crashing down on either of them

Adams alarmed, his legs peddling fast: Come back here, you litte…….!

he then remembers he's supposed to be entertaining, not vulgar, and tries his best to smile at the applauding children and their parents through his anxiety and spinning vision. He pedals backwards and forwards a couple of times, attempting to get the hang of it, but he is momentarily interrupted by George running up to him, juggling balls in his grasp

George: Here, Mr Adams, catch! They'll love it if you can keep these up too!

He tosses the balls one by one at Adams, who scrambles to catch them but fails apart from three. Sweat dripping down his face and smudging his make-up, Adams instability appears to be increasing as he tries to divide his concentration between maintaining his balance and clumsily throwing and catching the balls. The children, thinking this is all part of the act, are giggling and pointing, Timmy still at the front

Timmy: You're a silly clown! He's all sweaty, mummy!

But Adams is barely able to hear the children's cries, his heart is beating so loudly in his ears. The balls begin to get smaller and smaller as his vision begins to fail completely, his legs are completely numb and his brain is slowing as the alcohol begins to take effect. He can just make out Will laughing and slapping his thigh in the distance, but he is sweating so hard water was dripping into his eyes. His hands are drenched in the gloves, which are sticking to him and preventing him from getting a good grip on the balls, and his head is so hot in his wig he thought it was about to explode. Now that WOULD be a trick.

Adams trying to call out, but his voice faint and broken: I can't keep this up….can't…..must stop…..going to….fall……right…..now……

Suddenly it all went black as he tumbles from the unicycle, crashing to the ground as the balls scatter and the children leap back, confused and upset. Timmy, at the front, bursts into tears and begins to sob as his mother comforts him, but this only triggers off the other children and soon they are blubbing and wailing. Jarvis, sighing and completely bored with having to help Adams out of his self-created situations, hurries over to him and turns him over on the grass as Kraus and Flora come up behind him. Adams is a sorry sight – his wig is crushed and askew, his make-up smudged right up his face so his bright red mouth is merged with his blackened eyes, there is a tear in his outfit and one of the buttons is hanging off. Jarvis slaps Adams on the face hard, trying to avoid being covered in paint, but it takes a couple of attempts and a bucket of cold water gladly provided by Will to bring the drunken clown round. He opens his eyes a crack, sunlight streaming in and blinding him, but he is able to recognise Jarvis' form leaning over him. Oh, how he wishes it had all been a terrible, tortured nightmare, instead of a brutal, depressing reality.

Jarvis shaking him hard: Mr Adams! Then on seeing the small children sniffling and looking on in disbelief I mean, Mr McClown! Wakey-wakey!

Adams waving his arm in the air towards Timmy and the others: Urggh! Get them away from me! Horrible little sods! 

The children begin to wail even louder, Timmy burying his face into his mother's stomach

Timmy: He's horrible, mummy, I don't like him any more! He's a rubbish clown!

Adams half sitting up, his head thumping and his body aching: Oh, shut up, yer whingey wee beggar! Go get some balls, and I don't mean the juggling kind!

Timmy, through his tears, pulls his tongue at Adams as his mother mutters something about 'not coming here to be insulted' as Flora attempts to apologise to her and the other parents on Adams' behalf, although she knows it's useless

Jarvis smacking Adams back down and whispering harshly: Andrew, stop being a nasty idiot! I can't believe you've been drinking while talking to children, that's just completely unacceptable and irresponsible behaviour! 

Adams baulking and coughing: Oh, you can sod off too. Didn't see you volunteering to do this stupid job!

Jarvis, disgusted, stands up and gives him a hard kick, ordering him to his feet, but before Adams can drag himself up he hurls and vomits all over Jarvis' nicely polished shoes. Jarvis, in an absolute rage, grabs Adams by the scruff of the neck and heaves him up, waving at the parents to get their children out of the area so they're not scarred for life

Jarvis pushing an unstable, swaying Adams in front of him along the lawn and back up towards the house: Come with me, you revolting excuse for a man! You can clean yourself up in cold water!

Adams, feeling too sick to respond, merely groans as Jarvis drags him through the courtyard and inside. Once in the servants quarters, he shoves him down into a chair, where Adams just slumps and rolls his head back. Neither of them notice Flora hovering silently in the doorway, a look of concern on her face as she gazes at her estranged lover

Jarvis slapping Adams' face again to keep him awake: I would teach you a lesson if you weren't so pathetic and defenceless, now I'll give you one minute then you can make sure you're presentable by this evening! I will talk to you when you're at least half sober – I should damn well sack you on the spot!

Jarvis knows it's useless. Adams is now snoring gently, vomit and face paint covering his face and outfit. Jarvis' only consolation is that Lizzie isn't in the room to see her father in such a revolting state. Giving Adams one last sharp shove with his foot and tutting in disgust, he turns to leave but is taken aback to see Flora in his way.

Jarvis avoiding eye contact: Mrs Ryan

Flora desperate for eye contact: Mr Jarvis

Jarvis: Have you seen Mr Forest? I want him to help clean up Mr Adams.

Flora shaking her head: He's gone into town, something to do with picking up socks for the Earl before he returns. I'll ask Mr Matkin to do the honours, poor man.

Jarvis attempting a polite smile: You were very good with those children when you read to them, I was…impressed.

Flora attempting humour to alleviate some tension: Thank you, but I think anyone would look good compared to Mr Adams' exploits today.

They continue to stand in silence for a long, awkward moment, neither wanting to leave, but neither wanting to stay. All Flora wants to do is tell Walter what a stupid, arrogant fool he has been, pull him close and kiss him until they are too exhausted to continue, but her pride prevented her from doing so this time. No tears, she vows, no tantrums, no telling him just how much she loves and misses him. Jarvis meanwhile is still boiling over with rage at her and Kraus, but is managing to suppress it quite well considering Adams' behaviour. How could she be so insensitive to his feelings? Maybe it WAS true, he had been a bit of physical interest for her and that's it. He knows, deep down, that she's not that sort of woman, but her closeness to Felix is disturbing him far more than he thought possible. He longs for her touch, her tenderness, and her fingers through his hair, the softness of her lips on his, but his stubbornness keeps this thought firmly in his mind only. With a nod of the head, he slips past her, leaving her with the unsightly view of Adams dribbling into his collar  
End Scene

Cut to Will walking down the main approach road to the house, cursing the fact it was he who was chosen to go into town on such short notice, and on such an enjoyable occasion. However, he comforted himself with the fact he'd have walked to Land's End and back in order to see the dastardly Mr Adams making a complete (drunken) idiot out of himself - but he knew that to ask for him to be in fancy dress next time was too just much - that had been a once in a life time experience! Although, having said that, he'd have to relive the whole joyous event when George returned - he wasn't going to believe what he just missed thought Will, grinning like a Cheshire cat at that prospect of putting his own spin on the already hilarious situation.

He continued down the lane towards Tappelton, the near-by town, thinking of everything and then, periodically nothing at all, as he enjoyed escaping Taplows. Suddenly, he realised that this was not all he would be escaping, as following the havoc caused by Mr Adams, Mr Kraus had been temporally flustered and cleanly forgot the favour Mr Jarvis had asked (or rather told) Will to do. Indeed, the footman was positively skipping with delight (gaining him a strange look from a passer-by, riding a horse and cart), when the thought occurred to him that he had been spared the humiliation of a Morris dancing spectacle.

This grin could only grow as he returned to the image of Adams' face smeared with white, red and black face paint, just after Will had had the honour of soaking him with a bucket of water - that was a sight he would not forget in a hurry! He chuckled to himself almost all the remaining distance until, when his feet began to hurt, and he once again criticised the trivial nature of his errand. 'Socks, bloody socks!' he grimaced to himself, surely this wasn't an urgent matter! Anyway, it was widely known that his lordship had worn the same three grubby pairs of socks for years on end (albeit in a set rota), so why the sudden rush to get new ones? 'To make my life just that little bit better', he concluded, in a sarcastic tone of course.

However, this could not dampen his mood today, it had been a fine occasion, apart from the stray 'shoot the duck' pellet which had scuffed his cheek, which, on remembering, he rubbed gently, checking there'd be no permanent blemish on his face, surrendering once again to vanity.

He called in to J.Harvey's, the small fabric shop, to pick up the socks which the Earl had ordered. Now this, as many supposedly simple things, was easier said than done, as one of the pairs, Will was about to discover, was odd, and odd in the best sense of the word, as one sock was actually a red and green polka-dot design. Will tried to point out that they were hardly dignified for a man of the Earl's stature, and after much deliberation with the elderly shop clerk, it was agreed that that particular pair would be refashioned at no extra cost.

Following that rather absurd confrontation, Will decided that if Adams could drink himself silly whilst on duty and still manage (miraculously) to keep his job, then surely no-one would notice if he slipped into the 'Cock and Bull' for a quick pint. Resisting temptation of a second, he began to continue down the road, but on seeing Peter, one of the summer gardeners at Taplows, Will was persuaded (with not much arm twisting from his former colleague) to reconsider.

On entering the den of iniquity, they discovered half of Tappleton's male population had had the same idea, assuming them to be husbands who were dis-interested in attending the fate with their wives and children, which many of them were. Will, spying a table over in the corner quickly went and occupied it, whilst Peter got the first round in. Will perched himself on the stool and slumped against the wall behind him. 'I know, I know' he said to himself, 'I only said the one, but if the man wants to buy me a drink, so be it, and it would be most rude of me not to return the favour!', trying to justify his actions. Will closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest on the wall, it had been a long day, especially with the whole Marquee fiasco.

He was brought back to the present by Peter placing a cold pint of apple cider in front of him - heaven thought Will. Peter sat down on the stool next to him, and mimicked his leaning against the wall, he had had a long day too. For the next ten minutes, the men sat there, sipping their pints and talking about recent events at Taplows. Peter had much to be filled in on, as last time he was at the old house, Mrs Stanwick, the REAL Mrs Stanwick was still there. Her shenanigans kept them both amused for a good while, with Peter nearly choking on his pint when Will told him about Adams and the notoriously feisty housekeeper.

After thoroughly recalling the woman's lustful antics with the male staff, they soon found they were in need on another glass, and this time it was Will who had to put his hand in his pocket. Leaving his companion still shaking his head over such revelations, Will ventured to the bar. After standing in line for a few moments, Will was tapped on the shoulder and asked "So this is where you've been hiding is it?" by a voice that chilled him to his very core.

He didn't need to turn around, neither did he want to, as he'd vowed never seen that man's face again, instead, he lowered his elbows with a thud onto the bar and held his head in his hands absolutely devastated by this most unexpected turn of events. Any hope Will had of him being mistaken or that it had simply been his own imagination, were shattered as the body to whom the voice belong, had, in a paralytic drunken state (one that would rival even Mr Adams as his most horrid), dragged itself onto one of the tables (much to the annoyance of those trying to play cards on it) and announced to the entire ensemble:

"I wu-wu-would like to introduce to you, my friends (as which there as a chorus of sneers, as no one even knew who he was) ... my son" he slurred, indicating to Will, but holding his arm out such a distance that he lost his balance and fell head first off of the table, gaining him a round of applause. This was too much for a mortified Will to bear, and without paying for the two ciders that had just been placed in front of him, he fled, running for his life, literally he feared.

Meanwhile, back at Taplows, as it was Mr Kraus who issued the order to release Will (as both Mr J and Mrs R were occupied with Adams), Mr J decided (giving himself some satisfaction in the process) that Mr Kraus should be the one to make up the Morris dancing octet. At first, Felix refused to take any part in it, huffing and stamping his feet, as he was reminded by Jarvis that had he not dismissed Will, he would not be in this situation. His hesitations were eased as Flora used her powers of persuasion, telling him to take it one step at a time, and to at least try the costume on.

The latter proved to be quite a hit with the Chef, as he emerged form the changing tent with a smile on his face, fussing with the ribbons trailing off his right sleeve. He walked over to Jarvis and Flora, who was holding his hat, which she carefully placed on his head, much to the annoyance of Walter. This exasperation soon lifted, as Mr Smith beckoned Felix over to go through a few moves. Before leaving, Felix turned to Flora, giving her a rather scared 'here we go' look. Sensing he was more than slightly nervous, the housekeeper took his hands (a move that startled an already on edge Jarvis), shaking them firmly, and ensuring him "It'll be fine Felix. Go, show them what you're made of!"

He gave a last nervous look at Jarvis, who had no such words of comfort for his friend, as he was thoroughly enjoying this, once Flora had let go of his hands obviously. Jarvis stood, arms folded, tilting back slightly, waiting for the show of shame to begin. As Felix turned and walked towards Mr Smith, he caught sight of Will storming across the lawn, straight passed him. "Uh, Mr Forrest, where on earth are the socks?"

Will, only partly emerged from his enraged trance replied angrily "Socks, what bloody socks?"

Quite taken-aback at the way he was being spoken to, but in the knowledge that he hadn't the time to kick up a tantrum, Felix continued "Yes, the socks I sent you into Tappleton for, the reason why I and not you, am about to make a spectacle of myself!"

"Oh just sod the bloody socks, will you!" Will barked, setting off towards the house, his Lordships socks weren't even on his agenda at the moment, there were for more pressing issues.

Momentarily, Kraus stood in shock, dumbstruck at the disrespect shown by the supposedly 'First' Footman. However, any animosity he may have felt towards Will was soon forgotten, as when Felix Kraus got into the swing of things, he did it in the best sense of the word. The Prussian picked up the steps as quickly as one who had undergone years of practise. Indeed, as Mr Smith later commented, he was a natural.

At present, his gallant efforts were being rapturously applauded by Flora, who was standing on the sidelines, nudging Jarvis with her elbow, gesturing excitedly towards Kraus who was well and truly in the thick of things. A small part of Walter was quite impressed with his former confidant's performance, but he was more concerned with the impression he was having on his beloved Flora, as she continued to be swept away (further he feared from him) with festivities.

Cut to the courtyard, where Will is steaming across it, faster than a locomotive. He threw open the side door, the entrance to the scullery, the same one from which Lizzie was at the same moment, attempting to leave the Kitchen via, her hands full with trays of tarts, which were soon to be out of her hands, though much earlier than she expected.

Will crashed into her with a thud, sending the trays flying, clattering to the ground. 'Okay, its just an accident, no big problem' Lizzie tried to convince herself. But before she could open her mouth to voice this aloud, she noticed that Will had not even stopped to help her pick the things up. Unable to tolerate this rudeness from one she thought so much of, she though 'stuff the tarts', picking up her dress and petticoat, and storming off after Will, she was going to get an apology at least.

"William Forrest, you get right back here, you can't just leave me like this, they're ruined!" she hollered after him. At first Will just kept on going, but then Lizzie grabbed hold of his arm, using her whole weight as an anchor, with which to slow him down. However, to her horror, in his attempt to shake her off, she half tripped, half was knocked to the floor. It was only at this that Will ground to a halt. He looked down at her as she struggled to her feet, and his face fell, what had he just done?

Lizzie looked up at him, not in fear, but in complete and utter surprise, finally managing to gasp with a hint of venom "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but don't you EVER do that again!" Shaking her head as she turned to leave.

"He's only bloody here Lizzie!" Will exclaimed, letting slip.

At this, Lizzie swung round to face him, her jaw dropped. She was used to the way in which he referred to his father, so knew exactly who he was on about. "What do you mean he's here! Is he at the fate?" she questioned him abruptly as she was not prepared to forget what had just happened in an instant.

"He's in the pub, in the village, I just saw him!"

Lizzie was about to rant at him for drinking on duty, as that was her father's downfall, but instead she enquired "Are you quite sure?"

"Never more so, I didn't even have to look at him, I could smell his stench at 10 paces, and when he spoke, there was no shadow of a doubt!"

Now things had fallen into place, Lizzie noticed that Will was twitching rather nervously and uncontrollably.

"Well, what did he say?" she asked timidly, not sure she would like the answer, as Will himself was clearly rattled.

"What did he say! Do you seriously think I stayed around for that?" Will sneered, screwing his face up.

Deciding that if this was his attitude, she was not going to continue on the subject, but felt she had to say something. The best she could come up with was "Well I see you've managed to return sock-less, well done." she asserted, without even a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh don't you start!(obviously not having seen Mr Kraus in action) That poor excuse for a stand-in Morris dancer has already pointed that one out." he snapped.

"You mean you just left them there?" Lizzie persisted.

"Well if their not here, and their not at the shop, then yeah, I left them there, alright!" he scolded patronisingly.

Deciding she'd had enough of this, Lizzie retorted furiously "Well someone's going to have to go and get them, and as the atmosphere around here has suddenly become a lot less agreeable, I'd gladly volunteer for the job!" as she moved to leave.

Will, grabbing HER arm this time, prevented her from doing so. In a reflex action, her head turned sharply back towards Will as she shot him a 'don't you dare/let go of me' stare, at which he relaxed his grip.

"No Liz!" he pleaded, softening his voice, desperately trying to build bridges and convince her that that was not a good idea. He realised he'd captured her attention, so continued with his plight. "Liz, I don't want you going anywhere near the place, do you hear me?" he question, taking her left cheek in his free hand.

"Its not safe, please, I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you!" in a slight tone of desperation

"Don't you worry, I can look after myself" she replied in a rather ambiguous tone, that Will could just not fathom, giving him a stare of assurance. She wrestled her arm free, walked back down the corridor, straight through the pile of spoiled pastries on the floor and out of the door, without looking back. Will, not knowing what to do with himself, started out to follow her, but quickly realised this wasn't a good idea, SURELY she had heeded his words. He wished this was true as he slid down the corridor wall and began to despondently pick up the trodden tarts.

The next morning the staff rose early once more despite the fact that many of them had not gotten to bed the right side of midnight, even for those who had retired early a good night sleep had not been guaranteed. Will relieved that Lizzie had not made it into town yesterday due to the intervention of Mrs Ryan was still worried she would make another attempt. On top of this was the constant nagging fear that today, tomorrow or the next day that no good wastrel of a father would drag his sorry carcass out of the cock and bull long enough to stumble across the fields to Taplow's.

However he was not alone in his dawn musings, many of the senior staff were also suffering from this strange insomnia. Mr Adams had woken early once more the recipient of a Herculean strength hangover. He had managed to stagger along to the bathroom, and after gulping down a few mouthfuls of water he thrust his head into a basin full of cold water, and for a few moments considered not coming back up for air. However just as he was gasping for breath his courage failed and he sat down hard on the floor, his head in his hands and his hangover pounding in his ears.

Down the corridor Mr Jarvis was once more awake and alone, swinging his feet out of his bed he grabbed his dressing gown and strode down the corridor towards Flora's room. He paused outside, his hand resting on the handle, should he go in? Surely it should be her who made the first move, after all he had done nothing wrong; he stood frozen on the spot unable to make a decision then hearing voices down the end of the corridor he quickly moved away heading for the bathroom. On opening the door he spotted Mr Adams asleep against one of the sinks snoring loudly the remnants of his clown makeup visible round his ears and chin. Jarvis smiled and walking over to the sinks he filled a large jug full of cold water, standing back he threw the contents directly into Adams's face, Adams's so shocked at being woken so quickly tried to get up but ended up banging his head on the edge of the basin.

"Wakey Wakey Mr Adams!" Crowed Jarvis evilly, "After all you have a long day ahead of you, and you can start by powdering your wig"

Adams vision slowly cleared as he rubbed his now even sorer head, "What was that sir?"

Jarvis shook his head, the man was even denser than he thought possible, "You need to powder your wig Mr Adams!"

Adams frowned his confusion evident, "But I don't have wig? Do I?"

Jarvis's smile broadened "You do now Mr Adams. I warned you what would happen if you stepped out of line again, so as from today you and William Forest will be swapping posts, so I suggest you go try on your new livery!"

Then giving the now fuming Adams the once over he added "I suspect it will be a little on the small side, however beggars can't be choosers can they Mr Adams, think of it this way it will be an admirable incentive for you to cut down on the alcohol and actually loose some of that paunch." With that Jarvis turned and swept back down the corridor to his room leaving the now crimson Adams to crawl back to his dreading the arrival of the morning.

For the rest of the senior staff the early morning passed relatively uneventfully, for Mrs Ryan the only black spot was Walters recurring absence from the breakfast table, and despite reassuring herself that he was the only one to blame for his juvenile behaviour she was still worried that he was once more neglecting himself. Deciding to deal with one problem at a time she went to the kitchen and cajoled Felix into helping put together a quick breakfast for Mr Jarvis, which despite his grumbling the chef reluctantly did. Once the meal was ready Flora covered it over and headed off in the direction of Walter's office, pausing only briefly in the lower servants hall to ascertain what was the cause of their hilarity. Poking her head round the door she caught snatches of conversation.

"I know he's practically bursting out of it!" Fred bellowed

"I bet Will's enjoying himself, I heard him say next he's going to have him scrubbing up the silver till it shines like the midday sun!" Added Susan.

Flora glanced around looking for Mr Adams but alas the under butler was once more absent from his duties, sighing she turned and headed back down the corridor paying little attention to a footman busy struggling to pick up all the dirty laundry they had dropped from an already overflowing basket. It wasn't until she noticed William Forest standing over the poor unfortunate wretch, broad grin on his face and out of his green livery that she paused to look more carefully. Mr Adams sighed deeply and pushed his itching wig firmly out of his eyes, the only thing stopping him from upending the pile of dirty washing on top of the that smug little monster's head was the knowledge that Will would probably make him pick everything up with his teeth afterwards. So instead he bit his tongue and did his best to ignore the jibes of his former subordinate, that was when he noticed Mrs Ryan standing a few yards away an expression of both malice and delight flittering alternatively across her face before she turned away and entered Mr Jarvis's office.

Upon entering Flora noticed paper strewn all over Walter's desk, he however was not sitting there but in his fireside easy chair reading his mail. Carefully she walked over to the table and cleared a space to set the tray down in, turning once more to face Walter who had so far failed to acknowledge her presence. Slowly she walked over to him and sinking to the floor sat down expectantly in front of him, when after what seemed like eternity he still gazed off into space ignoring her she leant forward and snatched the letter out of his hands.

"Flora!" He exclaimed startled seeing her there for the first time.

"Walter?"

"I didn't see you come in!"

"I'd noticed that, how long have you been sitting here?"

"I don't know ever since the post came, have I missed breakfast?"

"Yes by about half an hour you really should try and make the effort to come the others are starting to talk!"

Jarvis stood suddenly and pushed past her stalking to the window his arms folded moodily, "Let them!"

"Do you really mean that? Don't you realize the damage your doing to your own reputation through your current behavior?"

However once more Jarvis failed to answer her preferring to gaze distracted out of the window, in desperation Flora opened his letter and began to read.

Dear Walter,  
I am trying to be understanding of your continued reluctance to visit either your father or myself. As Butler I am sure you have many pressing demands in your time and many important urgent tasks to undertake, however surely the duties of a son outweigh the majority of these? I am writing once more to stress the seriousness of your father's condition the doctors are now saying that he has merely weeks now if not days left with us. Surely you can be spared from your position for a short period there is so much that needs to be said and so little time left available. If you cannot bring yourself to do it for either your father or yourself, please spare a thought for me I would break my heart if the pair of you do not at least attempt a reconciliation.  
Please consider my words carefully; I'm sure you will come to a decision that both your conscience and duty can be reconciled too.  
Please write soon,   
Your Loving Mother.

Flora let the letter drop from her hand into her lap, slowly she stood up and walked towards Walter. She hesitated only for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his shoulders. "Oh Walter I'm so sorry I had no idea things were so bad!"

Jarvis sighed leaning back into her embrace and for the first time since opening his mother's letter he felt calm and centred, grasping her hands and unlocking them from around him he turned round and drew her back into a proper hug practically crushing her against his chest burying his head in her hair. For a few moments they stood held safe in the others arms, but then Jarvis released her and slumped back down into his desk chair his head in his hands.

"What am I going to do?"

"You have to go Walter, I know you, you'd never forgive yourself if you didn't at least try to put things right!"

"But after all that has happened how do I know anything will have changed?"

"You'll never know if you don't at least try!" She said softly smoothing his hair soothingly away from his face.

Jarvis sat back and grasping her hand raised it to his lips placing soft kisses on her knuckles before threading his fingers through hers. "Are you always right?"

"Most of the time!" She said nodding her head determinedly, which caused Walter to smile up at her.

"So what do you suggest?" He asked tentatively.

"I think you should go and see your father Walter, but before that I think you should eat your breakfast before it gets cold!"

Smiling and feeling happier than he had in days despite the bad news contained in his letter Walter picked up his knife a fork and started to tuck in, his appetite making a miraculous and well-timed return. For a few minutes they sat in an easy silence whilst he made quick work of his scrambled eggs and bacon, only pausing occasionally to look up from his plate to gaze at Flora.

When he had finished she leant forward and picked up the now empty plate, "Well I'm sure Felix will be pleased you finished it, he was convinced that you'd find fault with that too, personally I think he's more worried you'd start wasting away!" However she paused when Walter got suddenly to his feet throwing his napkin down sharply onto the table. "What's wrong now?"

Jarvis turned and paced to the window his face like thunder before wheeling back around. "You can tell your precious Felix from me that its no wonder nobody is eager to attend mealtimes in this place considering the negative associations that go hand in hand with every dish served!"

"Walter…."

"No there is no need to explain Mrs Ryan it was after all my mistake I shouldn't have expected you have taken time out of your busy schedule to make me breakfast, but instead you add insult to injury by getting your fancy man to prepare my special tray for me."

"Walter you are being ridiculous, he's the chef!"

"Apparently so but I'm sorry there are something's any real man could not stomach and that is being made into the butt of someone else's joke!"

Exasperated Flora turned to leave but before she could open the door Jarvis added, "that's it you go ahead, go on run back to the kitchen I'm sure he'll want to hear all about it!"

Angry and hurt by his accusations Flora turned round once more to face him and before she could stop herself blurted out "You know Walter its no wonder you can't even get on with your own family if this is the way you treat your own friends!"

Jarvis stepped backwards as if slapped but before she could apologise he advanced towards his face contorted with hurt and rage. "How would you know anything about me or my family it's none of your business and in my opinion families are very overrated much I might add like some former friends of mine. Personally I'm very glad I've had the chance to reconsider things and with any luck I'll now be spared the unending torture of having one of my own!"

Flora backed away from him, tears threatening to fall as she flung open the door and stormed off down the corridor leaving a both an angry and despondent Jarvis in her wake.

It was after 11 o'clock before anyone saw Flora again. She had dashed straight from Jarvis' room to her own, slamming her door behind her and leaning up against it as if she were exhausted from running, her breathing heavy and her sobbing caught in her chest and throat. How could he have said such a thing to her, she had wondered. Did she not know this man at all? Was he so mean and cold that he would expose her weakness - a weakness such as wanting children - and pour scorn on it? She had suddenly felt more alone in the world than she ever had done before, and she was sure that their relationship must this time be over. He obviously didn't love her any more, if he ever had done, and it was now she felt she needed Felix's company more than ever. But even though she knew he would soon come looking for her, she wasn't ready to face him quite yet. She had sat herself down slowly on her bed, and although she knew she had a lot of paperwork to catch up on she could hardly face picking up her quill. The book from Italy had sat gathering dust on her bedside table for the past few nights - it had made her feel closer to Walter during these confusing days and even now she wasn't ready to consign it to her bookshelf without a few more chances to flick through it. She stared hard at it through her tears, as if it were about to give her an answer; a solution to this whole sorry mess. Feeling exhausted, even though the day had barely begun, she had fallen backwards onto the bed, sobbing to herself and pining for the child - and the man – it seemed she would never have. Soon she had fallen fast asleep.

Now it was ten past 11, and the house had been in full swing for nearly four hours. There is much chattering in the servants hall as to Mrs Ryan's whereabouts, and rumours were flying round that her and Mr Jarvis had had ANOTHER blazing row, this time something to do with scrambled egg, but the rumours have gotten so out of proportion that the final word before Mrs Ryan appears is that Mrs Ryan had ended up hurling Jarvis' plate across his bedroom before screaming at him that he was no good in bed, or anywhere else for that matter, and that maybe he hadn't had enough practice over the years. Susan and Grace are sniggering about this latest development in the rumour mill while slowly making jam when Mrs Ryan appears in the doorway, her eyes no longer red but her face still as if she had lost a pound but found tuppence. Their surprise is obvious as they shut up at once and begin concentrating hard on the job in hand, but Flora storms into the room and stares in horror at the jam

Flora hands on hips, her skirts swinging: What on EARTH are you girls doing!

Grace and Susan both stop squeezing their tubes, backing away slightly from the table

Susan in small voice: M….making jam, Mrs Ryan.

Flora: Yes, I can see that, thank you Susan, but this is apricot, is it not!

Grace: Yes, you said yesterday……….

Flora snatching up a completed pot of apricot jam and shoving it in Grace's startled face: I said STRAWBERRY jam yesterday, Grace May! STRAWBERRY, not apricot! We've got damn apricot jam coming out of our ears without you two silly little girls making more of the stuff and filling up the cupboard space! How much apricot jam do you think the Earl and Lady Caroline can eat!

Grace and Susan's absolute horror at Mrs Ryan's completely unjustified outburst causes them to stand helplessly, dumbfounded, while she continued her ranting. Only Susan notices the small group of on-lookers who are gathering in the doorway, including Will, the recently returned George, Adams and Johnny. Nobody has seen her like this since the segregated meal times fiasco back before the Cumberland trip

Flora slamming the jar down hard on the table and causing the two trembling girls to jump: I will not have my staff disobeying my orders and then laughing about it behind my back!

Susan attempting to defend her and Grace: Mrs Ryan, we…..

Flora Her expression full of hate and fury: I have not finished talking, Susan! Do you lack manners as well as brains! Susan shuts her mouth again, eyes falling on her useless preserve I will not tolerate it! You two disgust me, completely disregarding everything I said to you yesterday – I even pointed out which strawberries you should use!

Grace: We thought you pointed to apricots, Mrs Ryan, we didn't see…..

Flora suddenly beginning to scoop up the half made jam and carrying it over to a large waste bag in the corner of the room: So you are blind, as well as ignorant, well why on earth do I keep you on then? Maybe I should sack both of you on the spot!

Flora dumps the jam into the bag, including the jam making equipment, and then before the girls can even comment she grabs them both forcefully by an arm each and drags them both through the assembled crowd and out towards the larder where the strawberries had been placed temporarily.

Flora seizing a large punnet from a shelf and dumping it in front of the girls: THESE are strawberries! Now I want you to work until your fingers hurt making as much jam as you can, we got through a lot of the stuff at the fete. Do I make myself completely clear this time!

Grace and Susan: Yes, Mrs Ryan.

Flora coming up close to them and lowering her voice: And if I catch you two disobeying me again I will have you, no fear! Now get to work before I……

Jarvis approaching them and standing a little distance away, but not letting on whether the staff have filled him in on events: Mrs Ryan, can I see you for a moment?

Before waiting for her to respond to his obviously rhetorical question, he swings round, his jacket flying out behind him as he marches away. Flora glances from Susan to Grace's weary faces, then turns and follows Jarvis leaving them standing by the strawberries. They look at each other in complete frustration

Grace shaking her head: She pointed to apricots, I'm sure of it! She just went mental for no reason!

Susan picking a strawberry out of the punnet and eating it: She SO did. I reckon it's because she's not getting any from Mr Jarvis at the moment. She's just a daft old spinster and I feel sorry for Mr Jarvis having to put up with her – no wonder he's dumped her!

Cut to Jarvis' office. Without any pleasantries, Jarvis begins to talk to Flora in a business-like manner as she stares at him, her hands clasped firmly in front of her

Jarvis leaning back against his desk: It seems that there are rumours…..rumours that Lord and Lady Fiffington-Piffles may not be as genuine as the Earl originally thought. Lady Caroline, as you know, had a visit this morning from her lady friend The Baroness Trumpington, and as I was serving the tea the Baroness hinted that Lord Fiffington-Piffles is, one might say, being not inconsiderably dishonest with the money he is meant to be investing. There are rumours all over London, it appears, where he is supposedly preparing to leave for India in the next couple of months.

Flora in snappy tone: Does the Earl know about this?

Jarvis raising his eyebrows, genuinely surprised at her harshness: I don't think so, Mrs Ryan.

Flora sharply, as if Jarvis were being completely unreasonable: Well, shouldn't you alert him to it?

Jarvis shaking his head, puzzled: I'm sorry, but it's not my place to do that, you know that! I am all seeing and not hearing remember.

Flora sarcasm creeping into her tone as she roughly folds her arms in an almost confrontational manner: Well, we had just better wait and see if His Lordship has been wiped out then, shouldn't we! You're very good at just sitting round doing nothing about a situation!

Jarvis moving closer to Flora: Flor…..Mrs Ryan, please! I'm trying to talk to you about a very sensitive and possibly very worrying state of affairs, can't you put aside your animosity for one minute and be professional about this?

Flora: I don't know why you would want my opinion on the matter, Mr Jarvis. You seem to be able to make your mind up about such problems without talking to me about it. Why don't you talk to your new under-butler Mr Forest? There's another matter you failed to discuss with me first!

Jarvis Ignoring the last comment, realising that this is neither the time nor the place to discuss William's appointment: I will endeavour to find out more information, write to my contacts in London, and Lady Caroline is due to see the Earl now he has returned from Cornwall, so I expect she won't be able to keep her mouth shut.

Jarvis looks deeply into her eyes - just like he used to do, Flora thinks. It never ceases to amaze her how attractive she finds him. Both are trying to suppress physical thoughts, but this only serves to make the tension between them even greater.

Jarvis poignancy in his voice: We – I have a duty to the staff to know what is going on as soon as possible so we can prepare for the worst.

Flora a surprising amount of spite in her voice: Duty? DUTY! What do you know about your duty, it seems! Yes you have a duty to those men and women who serve under you, but what about your father? You should go and see him! You have a duty to him too.

Jarvis sighs, pacing the room as his stress levels continue to rise. Normally Flora would have noticed and would have soothed him, rubbing his shoulders and hugging him tight, but this time she barely seemed to realise the seriousness of the situation. Caught up in her own feelings and her own anger towards the butler, it appeared to Jarvis to be almost pointless talking to her about Taplows. He is furious that she can't even begin to understand his relationship with his father – how dare she tell him to go and see him!

Jarvis: Mrs Ryan, do you not see that our very jobs could be at risk if the stories about Lord Fiffington-Piffles are true? The Earl invested an awful lot of money – almost £100,000, in the East India Company, and he expects a return. If he has been conned…..barely being able to say it everything we know and love could be lost.

Flora tears welling in her eyes as she turns to the door: I'm sorry Mr Jarvis. Her voice wobbles as she looks him in the eyes over her shoulder, pain and sadness on her face But to me that has already happened.

Flora reluctantly exits, tears once again streaming down her face, leaving Jarvis frustrated and desperate to understand where it all had begun to go wrong between them.

Later on that morning when the sun was baking down on Taplows, Will in his new position of under butler was strutting around the grounds puffing out his chest and generally having a ball ordering people about. This was what he had spent the last few years working towards and not even his current estrangement from Lizzie nor the threat of his father's possibly imminent arrival could put a dampener on his high spirits. Turning round the corner with a little skip in his step he practically bumped into the some of the porters and stable-lads grousing about the hot weather and the impracticality of their afternoon assignment. Will as always interested in everything walked back over to them and addressing the youngest Rob asked "Hey Robbie lad what's the matter?"

Rob eager as ever to spread the bad news started once more on his rant. "Its that potty Earl of ours you won't guess what he's ordered now?" Will still puzzled shook his head.

"He came back this morning and popped round to the stables wanting to check on how we're treating his new hunter, anyway on the way he passed the cesspit, I mean Will you know how it gets at this time of year? The men are supposed to come next week but no his loony lordship decides that it has to be emptied immediately, I mean now this instant this afternoon in all this heat. We all drew lots as to which lucky few got the job and guess what I'm one of them, on top of all that it means I've got to tell my Doris I can't walk her home, after all what woman would let you near her smelling like a dung heap?"

Slowly a broad smile spread over Will's face, this would be just the thing he thought. Turning to Rob he slapped him hard on the shoulder, "Don't worry mate you go have fun with your Doris I have just the volunteer in mind!" And with that Will turned and re-entered the house kicking up his heels in spiteful glee.

A couple of hours later Will was doing his rounds and decided this would be a perfect opportunity to go check on his little volunteer's progress with the cesspit, determined that this should be an experience that was never forgotten Will stuck his head into the footman's room where George and Fred were powdering their wigs. "Hey Lads have I got something you will not want to miss!"

Fred looked up thoughtfully, "Let me see, if its not that the girls are dancing round that maypole naked I'm not interested I've got to be upstairs in five minutes!"

"No mate it's better than that!" Will added.

"What better than naked women? You off your rocker Will?" George replied

"Just follow me and all will be revealed!" Will said beckoning the two lads to follow him down the corridor and out towards the stables.

They rounded the corner and saw the men hard at work with the cesspit, they all covered their noses as the stench was almost unbearable.

George began practically choking on the foul odour "If this is your idea of fun Will I'm starting to seriously worry about you!" Turning to quickly renter the house, but a now ecstatic Will grabbed his arm and pointed over to the centre of the pit where one lone man had the job of filling the buckets which were then passed along the line to the waiting cart. He was standing in galoshes knee deep in effluence and at first the lads had difficulty discerning who it was as the sun was beating down so brightly, but then the man turned towards them and although the bottom part of his face was covered with a mask against the stench the look of fury at being spotted in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Well blow me, it can't be?" George asked turning in wonderment to Will, who was now crying with laughter.

"It is mate, its Mr Adams!" Added Fred who turned to Will a new look of respect on his face, "How in the hell do you pull that one off?"

Will smiled back at them both, "it must be my appealing personality!" He added turning back to look at the now fuming Adams and giving him a little wave to indicate he should get back to work.

They all turned and walked back into the house, Adams searing glare burning into their retreating backs, before they entered the side door George gave one last glance to former under-butler and turning to Will added, "remind me never to get on your bad side!"

It was only just after lunch when Jarvis finally manages to get five minutes to himself, and already it has seemed like an eternity since he got up that morning. He hasn't seen Flora since their last volatile discussion, and nor has he any wish to, especially as he is just settling down in his office, the door firmly shut, with his daily copy of The Times and a cup of tea. He has every intention of putting all thoughts of Flora and of Taplows out of his mind for those few precious moments he tries to grab every day before the next disaster occurs, which of course it always does. He had concluded a long time ago that this is the only way to stay sane, and anyway he always had had an interest in politics and the world around him, especially because he works in such an enclosed and insulated environment. Sometimes he feels that the world must revolve around Taplows, before reminding himself that actually this small world is only a grain of sand on a giant beach and that this estate most certainly isn't the be all and end all of life.

Sighing and falling into his chair, his body feeling slightly weary, he unfolds his newspaper and pops on his spectacles, spreading the paper onto his desk and pulling out from a drawer the cigar he has been craving all morning. He often felt like creating a 'do not disturb' sign for his door, or rather 'do not disturb - unless the house is actually burning to the ground' sign, but he felt this was a little long and by the time some of the more dozy servants had read this their hovering would have annoyed him and he would have waved them inside anyway. Lighting his cigar and supping his tea, Jarvis settles back to read the latest on war and politics, and sometimes fashion if he were feeling adventurous with the supplements (although this was generally reserved for Sundays). After scanning the front page, it is the rather large article on page two which catches his immediate and panicky attention:

'THE FIFFINGTON-PIFFLES RIDDLE, HIS LORDSHIP DISAPPEARS'

Lord Fiffington-Piffles, the wealthy entrepreneur and businessman, has disappeared just before he is due to travel to India with his family where they are due to start a new life. London is today awash with rumours that he has allegedly stolen hundreds of thousands of pounds from unsuspecting victims, instead of investing it in the East India Company as he had agreed with them. Lord Fiffington-Piffles was last seen leaving a gentleman's club in Westminster three nights ago, after allegedly making another deal, and has not been seen since. One London source, who refused to be named, said that the Lord had promised to invest his money and that he would see a return within six months. That was a year and a half ago, and only last month Lord Fiffington-Piffles promised him for the tenth time to expect money soon. 

'He is a cad and a bounder' the source told The Times exclusively, 'he should be hung from the highest branch when he is caught, he has stolen and embezzled a lot of good people's money and he must be stopped, or he will be the ruin of high society'.

Lord Fiffington-Piffles was born in...'

Jarvis stops reading and slams down the paper in a crumpled heap on the desk, scraping his chair back and rising to his feet. He has most certainly read enough. The heavy weight of dread is sat firmly in his stomach, so much so he was worried he would vomit, and his legs feel wobbly as if he had been drinking heavily. He isn't quite sure why he's standing, it's not as if he could go straight to the Earl with the news, it would be unheard of. He continues to stand as he takes a long puff on his cigar, as if it were helping him to clear out his head, then stubs it out in an ashtray and sits himself back down. Resiliently he flips open his book of figures. Jarvis knows exactly how much the Earl had 'invested' with the illusive Lord – the Earl had carelessly left out the documents and he had managed to get a good look and memorise the important amounts, given to Fiffington-Piffles in three instalments. Jarvis also knows only too well that everything had been handed over – everything except the emergency reserves. Reserves that are to pay off over half the staff in the form of redundancies. He spends twenty minutes adding up, subtracting and comparing the different house budgets with the amount given to the Lord and the reserves left, sending away every distraction with a wave of the hand and without a word. Finally, he drops his quill, sits back in his chair, closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands. If all the figures add up, he concludes, then the Earl is finished. Completely. There was only so far the Earl could go into the red. 

The Sturges Borne family seat would be lost to the bailiffs and the family would be ruined. More importantly, to him, most of the staff would be surplus to requirements and those who remained, in probably a much smaller property, would face massive pay cuts. There would also probably be no need for a butler AND a housekeeper. Suddenly he hears a small tap, and Johnny appears in the doorway.

Jarvis thumping the desk and making Johnny jump: What is it, boy! Can't you see I'm thinking!

Johnny very quietly and nervously as he stretches out his hand, a small envelope in it: This….this letter just came, sir. It was delivered recorded delivery, seems important. It's come from London.

Snatching the letter from Johnny and dismissing him, Jarvis hurriedly slices the envelope with a letter opener and reads in earnest. It is from his fellow butler colleague Percival Stephens, a reputable fellow and at one time very good friend who is currently working for Baron and Baroness Forteskew-Smithers. He read the letter with a heavy heart. Percival writes that although his employers haven't been affected themselves, they certainly know of those who are. Good people who had taken Fiffington-Piffles at face value and had trusted him with their fortunes and who were now finding themselves in severe financial difficulty. Three butlers and five housekeepers had been dismissed within the past few months in the London area alone. Jarvis lowers the letter, pulling off his spectacles and sighing heavily. Why hadn't he heard anything before now, he wonders? How didn't the Earl know? Is he THAT stupid! Jarvis doesn't want to alarm the rest of the staff, not even Flora or Kraus. Not just yet. Not until it was all confirmed, or at least the Earl had been informed though some subtle nudge to look at the relevant article, preferably at a time when he wasn't absolutely hammered. He had been up in his room an awful lot of the time, except for his visit to Cornwall, since Gwen left, and Jarvis fears nobody is about to turn up to tell him all about it. Afternoon tea was rapidly approaching, and Jarvis notes that he has spent far longer than he anticipated in his office. So much had to be done that day, but everything seems to pale into insignificance under the circumstances. Finally Jarvis rises from his chair, snatching up The Times and storming out of his office to the kitchens. He would take the Earl his tea himself, along with a newspaper for him to browse while he munched his scones. It was the only way

Lizzie looking up on seeing Jarvis entering: Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis looking briefly down at the silver tray she was loading, as he had predicted: I'll be taking that to His Lordship today, Miss McDuff. I'm sure you've got plenty of other duties to be undertaking.

A bit surprised, Lizzie smoothed down her apron and stood back, nodding. 

Nodding at her, Jarvis lifts up the laden tray and trots back out again, ignoring Adams who is attempting to moan at him about the uncomfortable wig and footman's uniform he has to wear, and how it's too small, and nag, nag, nag, nag. Jarvis is just not interested. None of it matters. Adams matters least of all of anyone. Eventually he leaves Adams frustrated and muttering expletives at the foot of the stairs. Uncomfortable wigs, Jarvis thinks, will soon be the least of Andrew Adams' worries.

Jarvis on entering the drawing room: Your afternoon tea, sir.

The Earl, sprawled in a chair far too small for him, manages a smile as Jarvis places the tray on the table in front of him and pours the tea as steadily as possible considering the butler's frayed nerves.

The Earl struggling to sit up, an empty whiskey bottle next to him with the cap off: Marvellous, Jarvis, just what I need, cake and Earl Grey. Oh, and a newspaper. I feel somewhat cut off at the moment. Jarvis without emotion, standing back with his hands clasped behind him: Indeed, sir.

All Jarvis has to do now is stand and wait. Luckily for him, the Earl doesn't dismiss him but allows him to stand silently at the door, Jarvis' eyes fixed firmly on the Earls' expression and on the flick of the paper. Shovelling in his second scone, the Earl frowns as he stares hard at an article. On page two. Jarvis gives a little jump and shivers, but then the old man looks away onto page three and an article on the joys of rubber. Look back, look back you silly old fool, Jarvis thinks, as if he can will him to do it with the power of his mind. But the Earl begins to turn the pages carefully, obviously not having noticed the giant article about the vanished Lord and the even larger picture of him with 'WANTED' printed under it in massive letters. Jarvis is beginning to sweat, partly because of the warm day and partly through panic, but he feels slight relief when the Earl goes back to the beginning of the paper to read it more in-depth. The silence in the drawing room is killing Jarvis – all he wants to do is shake some Goddamn sense into him and shout 'don't you know what's going on under your nose?' very loudly in his face. But he can't. He has to continue standing, even though his legs are even weaker than before.

The very large penny, it seems, is finally beginning to drop. The Earl stops chewing and his wrist goes limp, clattering his cup back into his saucer. Gripping the paper hard, he brings it closer to his face, his eyes widening as he reads page two over and over

Jarvis trying not to sound alarmed and clearing his throat: Is there anything the matter, sir?

The Earl opening his mouth but taking an age to speak: Er….er….I…er….

Suddenly he jumps up out of his chair, glaring hard at Jarvis who is desperately trying to remain expressionless and completely ignorant to the all-too-obvious situation

The Earl his worried expression turning to rage as he points furiously to the door: Out, I say! Get out! Leave me! I will call you if I need you, I don't need you standing there!

Jarvis: Very good, sir.

Jarvis, as professional as ever, bows slightly as he reaches behind him and opens the doors before walking backwards out of them, closing them again silently in front of him. Once out of sight of the Earl, he stands for a minute in the hallway, a look of complete hopelessness on his face. He is just glad nobody is around to see him looking and feeling so despondent as he turns, tugs at his waistcoat and proceeds to march back towards his office.  
End Scene

Meanwhile the maids had been having a hard time under the harsh gaze of their normally kind and understanding housekeeper. Grace shook her head in despair she had no idea what had gotten into Mrs Ryan lately, firstly that business over the jam and now this? Who had ever heard of a complete spring clean being carried out at the beginning of autumn? However she had little time to ponder the problem as Mrs Ryan herself was also participating in the clean and if there was anybody she was working harder than her maids it was herself! Grace had never seen her like it, one moment she was with them working on airing all the rooms and linen, the next she was off dashing downstairs to check up on Charlotte and Susan making sure they were scouring and polishing all the brass and knowing her probably seizing a polisher herself and putting them all to shame. Determined however to avoid another lecture Grace returned to her bed linen determined to have all the guest bedrooms along the west corridor aired by the time Mrs Ryan dashed back upstairs.

Downstairs the rest of the staff were doing their best to stay out of the housekeepers way. Most of the footmen were petrified that in her current mood she would corner them and thrusting mops and buckets into their hands order them to get to work, nor was it an idle concern! Poor Johnny had only come in for a quick glass of water and one of Grace's Chelsea buns when Mrs Ryan had collared him and forcing a feather duster on him had instructed him to hunt out cobwebs. Johnny had stood amazed for an instant unable to comprehend what she had said but the threat of no meals till he finished soon put an end to his musings and the lads had had glimpses of him all afternoon dashing about desperate to rid Taplow's of all cobwebs by dinnertime. So in an effort to escape this fate worse than death all the available footmen had decided to hide out in the footmen's room the door securely barred.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door and reluctantly George dragged himself off of his seat and went and opened the door, he was however relieved to find it was only Lizzie.

"It's alright lads it Liz, no sign of the housecleaning dervish!"

Will got off his stool and wandered over to the door, "What's up Liz? You know if you want refuge in here it'll cost you!"

"How much?" Lizzie retorted smiling grimly.

"Oh I'd say a pot of tea and enough cake to keep us going for the afternoon, right lads?" He asked turning round to glance at each of the footmen in turn.

"I'd say tea is the least of your worries William Forest!" She added darkly.

"Why?"

"She's looking for you and trust me the longer you leave it the worse it's going to be, something about needing you and your footmen to bring down the winter trunks from the attics."

"But its only just bloody September!" Will cried out.

"No need to bite my head off! I'm only passing on a message", and with that she turned and stormed off leaving a once more despondent Will behind her.

Reluctantly the footmen trudged out of their room and went and found Mrs Ryan, it was not long before she had them all working hard going up and down the endless flights of stairs to the attic and bringing down trunk after trunk to the laundry room.

It was on one such occasion Will and George had been struggling with a particularly heavy box and having just placed it down on the laundry room floor they decided to sneak outside and have a quick smoke whilst Mrs Ryan was busy elsewhere. They had just lit up when George poked Will in the ribs and they both quickly extinguished their pipes, seeing Mrs Ryan walking through from the laundry carrying in an enormous pile of freshly washed sheets obviously intent on hanging them up to dry. It soon became apparent to Will that she was not going to make it; a few steps into the courtyard and she started to lurch, dropping the sheets all over the floor. Will jumped forward and caught her as she went down managing to reach her before she hit the floor.

"Christ mate she's out cold!" He yelled back to George who had dashed to help him, "Quick go get some smelling salts!"

"Cold water would be easier…." George began.

"You don't throw cold water over a lady, Adams yes he rightly deserves anything he gets, just go get her medicine box I know she's got some in there!" He turned back to the housekeeper cradled in his arms as George made a mad dash inside.

"Mrs Ryan!" He said gently, shaking her slightly.

Slowly Flora's eyes fluttered open but Will could see she was still dazed and not quite with it, "It's alright George will be back in a minute and then we can get you inside out of this sun…… Come on George!" He muttered to himself.

Suddenly his friend reappeared with Lizzie in tow and the medicine box in hand, she dug around in it and produced the smelling salts, which she held expertly under Mrs Ryan's nose. Suddenly the housekeeper was wide-awake looking both confused and embarrassed, Will helped her to stand but as soon as she was she shook off his supporting arms.

"It's alright I'm fine now", she muttered, "It must be the heat I just need to sit down in my office for a while." And with that she turned and stalked off quickly to her office and worried Lizzie dogging her footsteps.

"I wonder what's the matter with her?" Will asked almost to himself, his concern for the housekeeper he had always thought of as surrogate mother clear on his face.

"Does it matter mate?" Asked George winking at him, "It means we're in the clear for the rest of the afternoon. So what will it be cards or cheese rolling?" He asked already exiting the courtyard and heading off to the footmen's room.

Will shrugged his shoulders and headed after him, only sparing a quick backwards glance in the direction both Mrs Ryan and Lizzie had gone.

Mid afternoon. The sun is streaming through the large windows in the drawing room where Jarvis and Flora are stood silently. They are standing well away from each other, one at each end of the room. Flora is waiting impatiently by the window furthest away from Jarvis, every so often sighing sharply and turning in small circles before staring out again, her gaze far in the distance, while Jarvis is stood perfectly still, his expression stern but his eyes fixed firmly on Flora. She must know, he thinks, that he hasn't taken his eyes off her for a second

Flora sighing again, her tone sharp and angry: Why does he want to see us? Do you know?

Jarvis frowning: Oh Flo….Mrs Ryan, you can't have forgotten what I told you already. He knows – about the money vanishing!

Flora walking slightly towards him but thinking better of it and keeping her distance: Oh, so it's true then? And when were you going to tell me, Mr Jarvis! When I'm out on the street!

Jarvis looking completely frustrated, rubbing his forehead: Of course not! I didn't want to say anything until I knew………..

They both look round as the doors creak open, and a slightly drunken Earl staggers into the room, tripping over the rug. Jarvis darts forward to catch him, but he waves him away and tells him to 'stop fussing'. He indicates to Jarvis to pour him a whiskey, which his butler obeys obediently if a little reluctantly, then lowers himself into his usual chair, wincing slightly as if his body can't cope with the daily grind of living in the lap of luxury

The Earl looking up at Flora and nodding slowly: Good. You're both here.

Flora glances at Jarvis, giving him a look as if to say 'well he finally noticed me'

The Earl continuing: I….I need to go to London. Some affairs to sort out.

Jarvis thinking 'that's an understatement' as he offers the Earl the glass on a silver tray: Is there any sort of problem, sir.

The Earl hesitating then draining the glass, before handing it back to Jarvis for a refill: Er, no I don't think so. Nothing for you two to worry about. I will be gone for a few days or more, and I'll take that footman with me, that William somebody.

Well it WILL be something for us to worry about if we're being sacked, you silly narrow-minded old sod, Jarvis thinks

Flora: Forest. William Forest. And he's no longer a footman, m'Lord, you approved his appointment as temporary under-butler, if you remember correctly. Sir.

The Earl frowning slightly but then realisation creeps over his face: Ah, yes, so I did. I think. Anyway, him. He can come. there is a long silence. Right, you're dismissed.

Flora and Jarvis nod politely and move towards the door, but then the Earl unexpectedly and quite suddenly speaks again, stopping them in their tracks

Earl turning towards them, his voice weary and saddened: There's a bit of a problem. With my finances. I should be able to sort it out in London but….but….

The Earl breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. Jarvis and Flora exchange startled glances then Flora dashes over to him, handing him a clean handkerchief which he blows his nose on extremely loudly and then hands back to her, to her subtle disgust

Earl sniffing and managing a smile, but without further explanation for his outburst: I'll leave as soon as possible, before nightfall. Have my cases and carriage ready by eight.

Once outside the room, Jarvis manages to grab Flora by the wrist before she can flee from the situation. She swings round angrily, glaring at him with a bitter and, Jarvis detected, an almost hateful spark in her eyes

Jarvis hissing: Flora, wait! Please! I heard you fainted this afternoon, I just want to check you are alright. You seem to be working yourself very hard.

Flora chin wobbling: Are you suggesting that I don't work hard normally, Mr Jarvis!

Jarvis releasing his grip and roughly folding his arms in frustration: Oh, don't be so ridiculous, why do you always have to twist everything? Do you really hate me that much? I am just concerned.

Flora as if not hearing his questions: It's just a bit of a stomach problem, and it's been so hot lately, but thank you for your worry. So you can rest easy in your bed knowing that your behaviour lately hasn't contributed to my sickness!

With that, without giving Jarvis any opportunity to ask her further about her welfare, she turns and marches away. Jarvis had lost count exactly how many times his housekeeper had flounced away from him since they started working together, so at least, he considers, this is a good sign and that she appears to be back to normal. He watches her disappear round the corner, knowing that deep in his heart he still loves her more than anything, despite her tears and tantrums, despite her unreasoned arguments, despite the constant frustration he felt towards her. Realising that these feelings are probably completely worthless now, he sighs and exits in the opposite direction.

Cut to the lower servants hall. Susan, Grace and Charlotte are giggling and chattering away as they bake bread, Susan entertaining them with her rude ale house ditties. There was only so much My Auntie Nellie they could take, so they had encouraged Susan to think up new songs, and she appeared to have a particular talent for it.

Susan preparing herself and brushing her floury hands on her apron: Right, here we go then…..clears throat then begins to amused glances from Grace and Charlotte Daddy told me look into the future, sit and your computer, be a good girl…………

Charlotte dismissing her: Oh, you haven't made that one up Sue, we all know that one! Next line is 'and mama said remember you're a lady, think before you play and straighten your curls'!

Susan returning frantically to her kneeding: Well, you two just ASUMED I'd made it up, I never said I had!

Grace: Well, I only know the chorus, something about not needing no good advice because I'm already wasted…….

But before she can finish, Adams storms into the kitchen, completely sodden with dirty water and moss stuck in his hair. The girls laugh, partly at this and partly at the terribly ill-fitting uniform he is being forced to wear

Adams growling, his fists tightly clenched: Where is he! The maids exchange confused glances, then look back at the sorry footman who is beginning to shiver

Susan stifling a laugh: Don't know who you mean, Mr Adams.

Adams growing redder – he didn't need this little madam trying his patience: Don't play games with me, Miss Eliot, where is he!

Charlotte keeping calm: If you mean William then you'll probably find him just there. she points behind Adams, who swings round, flicking dirt and moss into their dough and causing a unified 'urgghh!' and screwed up expressions

Will is standing there, grinning from ear to ear and tapping his foot. He can't believe his luck at Adams' appearance, Jarvis would go mental

Adams poking Will in the chest, coming right up to his face: Outside. Now. Adams stalks off towards the courtyard before Will can retort with 'you can't tell me what to do any more'. The three maids snigger and cover their mouths as Will winks at them before he exits, smiling again then brushing the dirt from his white shirt which had released itself from Adams' finger.

Will Appearing in front of Adams, still smug as ever: So, have you finished with the guttering then?

Adams coming up after he rinses his head under the outside pump: You are pushing it, laddie. You spoiling for a fight again? Are you! Because I can give you one, right on that smug mouth of yours.

Will shaking his head, his tone pure sarcasm: Tut, tut, Andy, you really need to get that attitude of yours sorted out y'know or you could find yourself in trouble AGAIN, and that surely wouldn't be good for your already battered reputation.

Adams knowing his demotion has trapped him: You just wait until our roles are reversed again, which they will be. Mr Jarvis only meant this to be temporary!

Will raising an eyebrow and sizing Adams up: Yes, to teach you a lesson, and I intend to teach you one you'll never forget, now get back up that ladder and back to that guttering - finish cleaning it out or I'll ask Mr Jarvis to dock your wages for sheer incompetence!

Adams huffs, growling again before storming past Will, smacking into Will's shoulder as he does so and smearing him with the filth from the gutter. Will is left rubbing his hands in glee before making his way back into the house.


	3. Episode 3

The next morning the house was turned upside down by the immanent departure of the Earl to London, the entire household was gathered in the courtyard to bid the Earl a safe journey but he barely acknowledged anyone save a quick nod at Jarvis. Will on the other hand sat atop the carriage next to the driver and positively glowed with excitement, this was his first proper trip to London and he was anxious to get a good look at the new London household as well as sample the delights the capital had to offer. The fact that this brief trip would also mean putting distance between him and his no good father was in his mind an unexpected bonus.

Slowly as the carriage wound its way up the road and out of sight Jarvis turned to the assembled staff, "Well don't just stand there like a lot of dumb cattle get to work!" Grumbling and casting dark glances his way the throng dissipated until only Jarvis, Mr Adams, Mr Kraus and Mrs Ryan were left, but even they were making efforts to escape as quickly as possible.

"Would you three care to join me in my office?" Although Jarvis asked them to accompany him they all knew it was in reality a command and so followed obediently.

Jarvis entered his office flinging his door open wide and waiting for all members of his senior staff to enter before shutting the door firmly in young Johnny's face waving him away impatiently. Jarvis walked to stand in front of the fireplace and lanced at each of his staff in turn before speaking. "As many of you are aware the Earl has pressing business in London for the next few days and as he is not going to be resident at Taplows he has given me permission to take a few days off and go and visit my father." Jarvis paused there his gaze shifting to Flora in an effort to gauge her reaction, he frowned slightly she didn't appear to be listening to a word he said.

Taking a deep breath he continued, his eyes never leaving his housekeepers face, "As a result we need to make arrangements to cover the running of Taplows in my absense. Mr Adams will remain as first Footmen!" He emphasised, his words wiping the smug grin off of Andrew Adam's features. "However you will also undertake some of the duties of the under butler, door attendance etc. The management of staff behaviour, disciplining and all financial matters are to be handled by Mrs Ryan."

At the mention of her name Flora's head shot up and for the first time that morning Jarvis looked her straight in the eye, a frown once more creased his forehead; she looked far to pale for his liking probably because she missed breakfast he thought. "Will that be alright with you Mrs Ryan, I wouldn't want to put more on your shoulders than you could cope with?"

Jarvis had meant his query to sound sensitive and understanding however to Flora it seemed like yet another challenge to her competence, and she retired angrily, "I'm sure we'll manage somehow to cope with your absence Mr Jarvis! Now if that is all, I'm sure I am not the only one with a million and one things to do this morning?"

Jarvis's face reddened and he fought to control his temper, how dare she undermine his authority like that? Well so much for trying to be pleasant to the woman if she was determined to make this break up as difficult and painful as possible why should he feel the need to hold back? But something did stop him, maybe it was the air of frailty that hung about her his morning, or his gentleman's manners or the fact that deep down he was still hopelessly in love with her. However whatever the real reason he bit his tongue and shook his head instead, watching sadly as she proceeded to storm from the room.

Flora stormed out of Jarvis's office but not for the reason that the others thought. Instead of heading towards her office she dashed towards the bathroom, she just made it in time. Afterwards she paused to catch her breath, wiping her mouth on her handkerchief, and tried to fight the second wave of nausea that swept over her to no avail. Leaning back against the wall she heard the door open and a couple of maids enter chatting, it sounded like Susan and Charlotte, Flora remained silent and hoped they would hurry up and leave before she was sick again. However they seemed to take ages and Flora was unable to hold out.

Susan stopped mid-sentence and poked Charlotte in the ribs, "Who do you think that is?" she said gesturing towards the occupied stall.

"I don't know?" Charlotte replied, shaking her head and walking towards the door, "its none of our business!"

Susan giggling hurried after her, "Grace has probably got herself knocked up again and it's morning sickness!"

Inside the stall Flora caught Susan's comment, morning sickness, it couldn't be could it? She couldn't be pregnant? Slowly a sneaking suspicion arose in the back of her mind, and I put it all down to stress, what if there was another much more simple explanation for everything?

Cut to the scullery, where Lizzie is currently re-doing the napkin pressing she had spent all morning on, as Mrs Ryan had complained that there were blatantly still creases visible. Lizzie puzzled herself as to the housekeeper's current state of mind, as she had always been strict when the occasion called for it, but these last few days were getting beyond a joke. She could understand how having rowed with Mr Jarvis would have upset her superior, as herself and Grace had known for a long time just how much the two cared for each other. Under normal circumstances, the two maids fully supported the relationship, but at the present moment in time, Lizzie felt their downs no longer outweighed the ups. Something clearly drastic had happened, or at least was about to, Lizzie could feel it in her bones.

But at that second, her attention was taken away by an sudden and rather unpleasant feeling. As she picked up the iron that she had been heating on the fire, to resume running the sculptured piece or cast iron over the napkins, she had absentmindedly burned the tips of her fingers. At which, she dropped the iron to the floor, leaping back and grasping her burnt hand with the other. Naturally she began calling out a few verbal obscenities, but theses ground to a halt as she noticed the door had begun to open. 'Great' she thought, that was all she needed was to have Mrs Ryan overhear that, she'd be ironing unwrinkled (to the visible eye i.e. all but Flora's) napkins for an eternity.

Luckily, Grace emerged from behind the door, looking slightly rattled, but put this aside for a second to attend to her injured friend. "Jeeze Liz, what you done?" Grace gasped as she walked over and took Lizzie's hand.

"O'ch, its nothing Grace, just a little nick with the iron, bloody hurts though!" Lizzie tried to reassure her friend.

"Ohhh, even still, looks a little nasty, you want to get some antiseptic on that, after you've got some ice cold water on it" Grace advised

"Antiseptic?" Lizzie cried with a look of fear in her eyes. The thought of having her hand douced in TCP (or similar) was not appealing to say the least, indeed, it would probably end up burning more than the iron already had done.

"Well maybe just the cold water then" Grace conceded, dragging Lizzie over to the tap.

Once the pain had began to subside, Lizzie noticed that Grace was shaking and was a little red in the face. "What about you Lassy, you look like you've just run a marathon!" she joked

"You wouldn't be far wrong there!" she retorted light-heartedly, before her tone turned gravely "But seriously, I felt I was being followed, I just got back from Tappleton as quickly as I could"

At first Lizzie tried to assure Grace that it had just been her imagination, ad that if she wanted to loose weight (which she clearly didn't need to), she should enquire with Mrs Diggins about weightwatchers and not simply run herself ragged. But as Grace continued, Lizzie was given much more cause for concern.

"Its not funny Liz" Grace insisted with a worried look on her face. "I saw a new one of Will's cronies in town, rather older than he usually hangs around with"

"What makes you think they had anything to do with Will" Lizzie enquired in a rather inquisitive tone which, at first, Grace mistook for Lizzie being protective of the newly promoted under-butler.

"Well, he was asking for will, well trying to, he was drunk as a stunk, so I thought he must know Wi-"

Before she could finish, Lizzie continued "What do you mean he must know Will? How old was he? What did he look like" she gabbled, barely drawing breath between the rapid-fire questions.

"Well, come to think of it, he looked a little like Will, I could see him in this blokes eyes. Did he say someone was coming to visit him? An older cousin, uncle or even his-"

Before she could say the word father, Lizzie cut her dead, in a rather less than subtle way, which fortunately went unnoticed by Grace.

"Um, Im not sure, possibly a third uncle of a ..." she was struggling.

"A third uncle! Dont you mean a third cousin?" Grace chirped in continuing "Well, if you don't know, I could always ask Georg-"

"No!" Lizzie's eyes widened as she let out a little yell, which quite surprised Grace, who pulled a puzzled facial expression. "No, no, I remember now..." continued Lizzie, desperately trying to make up for her blunder "I remember him saying something about an older cousin, but he live in Newcastle I believe, thats miles and miles away Grace, you must be mistaken"

Grace conceded that this may be true but warned Lizzie to tell Will that "If ever one of his gutter pals approaches me again. I'll go straight to George, he'll sort them out!" she announced triumphantly.

"Yeah, yeah, will do" Lizzie tried to ensure her, nodding her head nervously.

The former got her reprieve, as Grace turned and walked over to the door saying she was glad Lizzy's hand was feeling better and was sorry she couldn't stay long, as Mrs Ryan was spontaneously on the war path.

Once Grace had closed the door, Lizzie sat down on a little wooden chair. She gasped out of exhaustion, she had just about managed to keep up the pretence while Grace was there, that everything was fine, that there was nothing to worry about, but inside she was panicking. Momentarily she abandoned her ironing, catching her breath back and wondering angrily just where the hell was Will when she needed him, was she going to have to keep this secret to herself, front it out alone no matter how bad things could get with his father stalking the streets?

George and Adams, bored with polishing the amazing amount of silver the Earl seems to own, decide to take themselves outside to the courtyard for a rest in the midday sun. Slouching down on the cobbles, Adams least of all caring if he dirtied his trousers, they lean back against the wall, clasping their hands around their bent knees. George begins picking at the moss on the ground, squinting and mopping his forehead with his other hand, while Adams shuts his eyes and sighs.

George shaking his head and smiling: That Will, getting to go to London. Jammy sod.

Adams grunting: Nah, don't care much for London. Full of politicians, barristers and downright dodgy characters. And it smells. And its smoggy. Would rather be here, in the fresh air meself.

George nudging Adams: Oi, watch it mate, I'm from around London. Would love to go back at some point. It can get so….oh I dunno….dull round here.

Adams raising an eyebrow: Oh so it's not exciting around here enough for you, then? Not enough drama? This place is more eventful than the music hall capers, Georgie,so I don't think London could provide you with more entertainment!

George wrinking his nose: Well, that's just it isn't it, everyone in everyone else's business, just 'cos there's nothing better to do.

Adams, not really wanting to carry this topic of conversation on, falls silent, trying to watch through the glare of the sun wispy white clouds slowly moving in the sky, with all the time in the world to float lazily. He considered this for a moment until George speaks again, shifting himself further down the wall

George: So, you and Will, still not best mates yet then?

Adams,unsure where George is going with this conversation, merely shrugs and tries to play down his complete hatred and contempt for the new under butler

Adams: Not exactly. He's cocky and foolhardy; promoted far too much above his head, if you ask me.

George trying his luck: But Jarvis didn't, though, did he? Ask you?

Adams climbs to his feet, brushing down his trousers. He looks down at George, who is squinting up at him

Adams lowering his voice: Oh, I will get my rightful job back, you mark my words, laddie.

Just as he is going back inside, George calls after him

George: Oh, by the way, Johnny was looking for you earlier, with a letter. At least you still get letters, mate, which is more than I get! Somebody must love you, unless it's the debt collectors on your back again! I think he said he was going to slide it under your door, got fed up looking for you. Think you were in the lav at the time.

Without responding verbally, Adams frowns, more in confusion than in reaction to George's quip, then turns and enters the house. A letter? Who on earth could that be from? All his debts were paid, he was sure, except to Jarvis of course. Pausing for a moment, he scratches his head before quickly retreating to his room to end the suspense.

Felix Kraus had had a very busy morning and afternoon, due to the Earl's departure he had had to be up even earlier than usual and if there was one thing he hated more than Andrew Adams it was early morning starts. His bad mood had been exacerbated by the continued absence of senior staff from meals. It was bad enough when it was occasionally the valets or Mr Jarvis but it appeared that now Flora had adopted their bad habits since so far today she had missed both breakfast and luncheon. Determined that this meal skipping should not develop into a universal trend Felix had resolved to nip it in the bud where Flora was concerned and was now on his way to her office to forcibly escort her to dinner if he had to.

He firmly knocked on her door but received no answer despite the fact that he could see her sitting at her desk through the glass, determined not to be fobbed off Kraus pushed open the door and strode purposefully into the room. He stood there for a moment glaring at the motionless Flora waiting for her to notice him. After what seemed like ages Felix's anger turned to curiosity and even concern and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing Flora to jump a good foot into the air.

"Felix!" She exclaimed, her hand resting over her heart obviously trying to  
calm it, "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Well it's not my fault you didn't hear me knocking!" He said flicking his hair out of his face and back over his shoulder. "What is the matter with you today? First that scene Mr Jarvis's office this morning then shutting yourself away in here for the rest of the day! What could possibly be so important?" He demanded snatching up the book that lay open in front of her, reading it despite her protests. Felix frowned, "What is so engrossing about this years calendar may I ask that you prefer it's company to mine during meal times?" He asked slamming the now shut book down in front of her.

At this he had expected her to start with a whole ream of excuses, instead she buried her head in her hands and burst into tears. Immediately sorry for his outburst Felix pulled up an available chair and sat next to her patting her soothingly on the back. "Is this about Walter?" He asked gently.

"No!" She retorted quickly looking up at Felix, then when he raised an eyebrow she bowed her head slightly, "Well Yes and No!"

"What's happened now?"

"Oh its awful Felix, I can't even bring myself to believe it, I've been sitting here all afternoon just thinking it over and over in my mind and it just can't be true, it just can't be!" And with that she once more burst into floods of tears but this time sobbed on his shoulder.

Confused Felix rocked her gently until she had exhausted herself crying and had calmed slightly, "What can't have happened Flora?"

Muffled she began, "If I tell you, you must promise faithfully not to tell anyone not even Walter!" She sat up and grasped Felix's hands desperation clear in her eyes, "Promise me Felix!"

"Alright I promise. Now what is so wrong?"

Flora stood up and walked away from him to the window hugging herself protectively, suddenly she whirled round, "I'm pregnant!"

"What!" Felix jumped up from his chair, he had not been expecting that!

Flora's face started to crumple up and Felix was convinced she was once more going to burst into floods of tears so walked over to her and drew her into a hug, "Are you sure?"

Flora nodded, "Yes I am, I've been checking the dates and Felix I think I'm about six weeks, what am I going to do?"

Felix seized her shoulders held away from him at arms length, then he leant down and said in a firm voice, "You are going to tell Mr Jarvis, after all this is not just your burden but his as well!"

Flora backed away from him a look of horror on her face, "Oh no Felix I can't, you don't understand I know him he won't…."

Felix dismissed her protestations with a wave of the hand, "I think I also know him and despite everything that has happened lately I'm sure he still loves you and he is the consummate gentleman he will not let you down." He assured her confidently.

"That's not the point, he doesn't want a family he told me so himself, he'll just think I've done this on purpose to force his hand; he may not even believe me Felix, he may think I'm making it all up!"

Felix shook his head and smiled at her kindly, "Flora my dear what other choice do you have? But now is not the time you need your rest and you certainly need to eat, I suggest you go up to your room and have a lie down and I'll have your supper sent up to you?"

Slowly Flora made her way to the door and turned to him one last time, "Someone out there is going to be very lucky one day." And with that she opened the door and left a touched Kraus standing alone in her office.

The letter, as George had said, is poking under his door as he opens it. Picking it up, he thumbs it a minute, concentrating hard on the address on the front. Certainly the handwriting is familiar to him. Momentarily cursing himself for not opening it and instead trying to guess the identity of the person, he rips it open roughly without using his letter opener. He recognises the note paper instantly and his heart leaps in his chest. He sniffs it, and the perfume is unmistakable. He lowers himself into his chair slowly, taking the words in frantically

Dear Andrew,  
I hope this letter finds you well, and that you by some luck avoided – dare I say it – prison. I was terrified when I heard through Jock McKee's grapevine that they were catching up with you. News spreads so terribly fast through the houses up here, as you very well know.  
My darling Andrew, how I have missed you since you left Highlands. It has been simply beastly up here without you. And to leave like you did, I was most upset. I had no idea of the trouble you were in, if you had told me I am sure I could have helped you.

I have so much to speak with you about, but it will have to wait for now. I am hoping to pay Lady Caroline a visit – as you know my family is very much acquainted with your new employers. I hope to come possibly late Autumn, but I will be able to write to you in a week or more with confirmation of my arrival when arrangements are finalised. I cannot wait to see you again, although it took me a while to come to terms with your sudden departure. I would very much like to make up for lost time.  
All my love,  
Rebecca

Adams lowers the letter slowly, his eyes leaving the fine handwriting and focusing on the wall directly ahead of him. His breathing has quickened, but his expression is a mix of confusion and pleasure. Rebecca, coming here. Here. To Taplows. It has been nearly a year since he caught her eye for the last time as his carriage rolled out and away from the mountains – and the woman - he had loved for so long. She had looked so sorrowful, yet her beauty had been particularly striking on that cold, misty early winter morning. 

Pulling himself out of his memories, Adams folds up the letter and places it carefully inside his drawer, slipping it into his diary. For the first time in a long time, Adams is feeling a sense of inner peace. But Lady Rebecca Farquarson always managed to do that to him, even though her words were on paper and not falling out from between those beautiful, fine lips of hers. A wave of warmth enveloping him, he smiles for pure joy and exits his room

The next morning Flora once again missed breakfast, it was typical she thought that on top of all her other problems she should also suffer with chronic morning sickness. Finally dressed and ready to carry out her duties she paused to glance in her mirror and almost gasped at the horrors it contained, didn't people always describe pregnant women as radiant or glowing? However looking hard into her mirror Flora could discern nothing radiant about her current appearance, she looked deathly pale and had now permanent bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, why would Walter want anything to do with her looking like this? She knew deep down Felix was right that she had to tell him, it just didn't seem fair that she had to look at her worst when she did it; it wasn't as though she was going to be giving him good news and in her present state he may just decide she wasn't worth the hassle.

Slowly she made her way downstairs careful to avoid the kitchen the last thing she wanted know was another lecture from Felix despite his admirable intentions. Instead she headed out to the laundry to check on the progress on the laundry maids on cleaning the winter linen. It was there a few hours later and ten minutes before lunch that Felix caught up with her.

"So this is where you've been hiding out all morning? Do you expect Mr Jarvis to come to you, is that it?" He said seizing her arm and practically frogmarching her back outside and along the garden path to the gazebo. Finally when he was convinced she wasn't about to slip away he released her but stood blocking the exit, his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

"Flora you have to tell him before he leaves, you know he's going away early tomorrow morning and so tonight's your only chance!"

"I know, I know……" She replied distraught turning from Felix and stalking over to the window ledge, "It's just he's going to be so angry and upset, he told me quite plainly he didn't want a family, how is he going to react to a baby especially with everything else being up in the air as they are?"

Felix walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, "It'll be alright I promise it will!" Flora simply nodded her head and let Felix drag her back up to the house for lunch.

A few minutes later and another figure slipped back towards the house from the gazebo, pausing outside the lower servants hall to glance back over his shoulder almost in disbelief at what he had just heard, Andrew Adams shook his head and smiled broadly to himself before stepping inside merrily to lunch.

That afternoon Andrew Adams knocked firmly on Mr Jarvis's office door. After seeing the butler wave him in he sauntered slowly into the room, slamming the cellar keys back cockily onto the table and waiting for Jarvis to comment.

"That will be all Mr Adams!" Jarvis snapped at him not even glancing up from his big book of figures to give his former under butler the courtesy of a visual acknowledgment.

"If you say so Mr Jarvis, I just thought you might be interested in….. Oh well never mind you'll find out eventually I suppose when she gets round to telling you!"

This caught Jarvis attention, and he glared up at Adams his brow crumpled in a frown, "tell me what?"

"About Mrs Ryan sir!"

"What about her?" Jarvis asked his tone once more curt and abrupt.

"Well I except she'll be handing in her resignation soon sir so you'd better start searching for a new housekeeper now!"

"What?" Jarvis demanded practically jumping out of his seat. "Why would she do that?"

"Well her job is very physically demanding and for a woman in her condition, well you can't be too careful as my dear old mother used to say!" Adams replied teasingly.

"What condition? I she ill?" Jarvis asked anguish and concern clear on his face.

"Oh not really, its nothing that about a nine month convalescence won't fix."

Suddenly realisation dawned on Jarvis's face and he slumped back down into his chair stunned, raising a hand to brush back his hair from his face as he shook his head in bewilderment, Flora pregnant? Why hadn't she told him? He wondered to himself.

"I wouldn't worry too much sir, after all Mr Kraus seems to be taking good care of her, showing due fatherly concern I would say!" Adams stated, his grin now fixed from ear to ear as he watched Jarvis face fall and start to redden with anger.

Suddenly Jarvis was once more on his feet and ushering his delighted subordinate out of his office with a firm shove, "Thank you Mr Adams that will be all!" He exclaimed punctuating the 'all' by slamming his office door in his former under butlers face. For a moment Adams stood there and watched the butler through the glass as he sank back into his seat his head in his hands, and for a moment he felt a tinge or what was that feeling? Almost regret over his actions as he watched the clearly devastated man in front of him, but quickly Adams pushed that feeling aside concentrating instead on the normal feelings of hatred and envy he felt for the butler. Regret who was he kidding Jarvis deserved everything he got!

The upper servants meal was tenser than it had ever been, and that was saying something. Mr Jarvis sat at one end of the table and had barely touched his meal; instead he spent his time glaring at first Felix and then when she finally put in an appearance Flora. He gaze was one of barely contained fury and it made both of them squirm uncomfortably in their seats and yet he did not speak, preferring instead to communicate his anger through the already charged atmosphere.

Finally when the meal was over the Mrs Diggins and the Valets beat a hasty retreat, wanting to be as far from Mr Jarvis as possible before he exploded. A few moments later Felix also rose to leave, folding his napkin he risked a quick glance at Flora intended to give her a supportive smile but he could not catch her eye as she was staring down at the tablecloth as if beaten down by the force of Jarvis's anger. So instead he also quickly disappeared leaving the two alone.

After a few minutes Jarvis spoke in a dangerously quiet tone, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Flora's head shot up and for the first time she looked him dead in the eye and the full force of his fury took her breath away, he knows she thought, somehow he knows!

"Well cat got your tongue? Normally you can't hold it, so what's stopping you now? Haven't you got some news to tell me?" Jarvis snapped at her harshly, his voice rising from a sarcastic whisper to almost a bellow as he stood up from his chair and leant forward on his hands against the table.

"I…."Flora began but she couldn't continue. For the first time since their acquaintance she was truly frightened of him, his face was like thunder and the way he twisted and wringed his napkin in his hands was very unnerving.

"Well!" He yelled striding round the table until he leant down over her, "go ahead it's not like you can hide this sort of thing for ever!"

"How did you….?" She began again puzzled.

"What find out your dirty little secret?" Jarvis spat leaning down further until their face were only inches apart, "nothing remains a secret for long at Taplows as you should well know by now! However as usual it seems I am always the last to know anything!"

"You're not the last, I haven't told…" She began hesitantly.

"You told Felix first though, although I suppose that is appropriate considering?"

"What!" Flora gasped, the blood draining from her face he couldn't believe that it was Felix's?

"Well after all it is his isn't it!" Jarvis yelled spitefully

"No!" Flora exclaimed rising from her chair, "it most certainly is not! The only person this child belongs to is you and I, Walter you have to believe me there is, there never was anything going on between Felix and me or me and anybody else. There has only ever been you!" She replied pleadingly, placing a placating hand on his arm.

Jarvis pulled away from her, disbelief written on his face, "I am not an idiot Mrs Ryan so please do not treat me as one! This child is nothing to do with me and now neither are you, I wash my hands of you. Nor is it appropriate for you continue in your position given your current condition! As a result I will expect your resignation letter on my desk by the time I get back from Eastbourne, and if you can arrange it I suggest that you also will have left by then!"

"But what am I going to do, where will I go?" Flora asked desperation and hysteria clear in her voice.

"Ask Mr Kraus after all you are both his concern, as far as I'm concerned you can both go to the devil for all I care!" And with that Jarvis turned his back on her and stormed out of the room leaving a distraught and sobbing Flora behind him.

It is the dead of night. A still night and one very warm for the time of year. An owl can be heard in the distance, quietly talking to itself, while the screech of Mrs Stanwick echoes into the night. Everyone in Taplows is asleep, whether it be in their beds or slumped over the table in the kitchen. Everyone except the butler, who is lying perfectly motionless on top of his covers,having thrown them off in a fit of exasperation and annoyance.

Jarvis has worked out that it must be around 3 am. It was too much like hard work to be bothered with candles just to check, so he continues to lie there, his mind churning over and over until his head begins to pound. There is a blue glow in his room, the moon large and bright in the sky, and the light is affecting his ability to shut out the world around him. In the end, after turning over one last time to try and get comfortable, he gives in and lights a few candles after swinging himself off his mattress. He stretches and yawns, wandering wearily over to the window. Moving the curtains he peers out into the night, but although he is looking at the dark mass of trees in the distance his mind is completely elsewhere.

Sighing heavily, he drops the curtain back and walks over to his wardrobe, which he opens slowly then reaches in. Carefully he lifts a box off the top shelf and places it on his bed. He stares at it for a moment, then frowns and lifts the lid, discarding it onto the bed before pulling out a perfectly wrapped garment and opening the paper gently. The shawl was beautiful – a dark blue silk with delicate beading around the edge so fine that Jarvis couldn't even begin to wonder how it was done. He had ordered it for her because she had been so delighted and awed by the Italy book. It had taken some doing, but he had managed to use a contact he had made out there to arrange its collection and posting.

He runs his hand across it then picks it up and just holds it, gulping hard as he can feel the tears begin to form in his eyes, the first tears in many years, since one of the worst arguments with his father when he was younger. He quickly puts the shawl on the bed, turning away from it as he blinks to keep the tears at bay, but for some reason unknown to him he turns back and picks it up again, feeling its softness in his hands. It is then he realises it is no good, and he is helpless to his emotions as he places it back down and slumps down beside it, face in his hands.

What has he done? What has Flora done? Why oh why are they so destructive when they are together? He finally looks up, pulling a handkerchief from under his pillow and dabbing his eyes. A baby. Kraus' baby. Surely? There is a heavy look of concentration on his face as he ponders this thought. But Flora and Felix seemed only to have been a little too friendly these past few weeks, and thinking back to when Grace was pregnant three weeks was surely too early to detect such a thing.

He stands and paces in a circle, before packaging up the shawl again and placing it back in the wardrobe. Blowing out the candles, he flops back onto his bed and stares at the darkened ceiling once again. He frowns again, feelings of jealousy and rage building up inside him. 'Jean-Luc!' he says to himself in an angry whisper. Must have been when she was in London! It is then that he shakes his head and shuts his eyes tightly and chides himself in his mind: Oh Walter, what is wrong with you!

Hands behind his head, he continues to think hard. Maybe it is his baby, maybe she was telling the truth, maybe she does still love him, maybe he was too harsh with her. Maybe Jarvis still adores his darling Flora and maybe, just maybe, he was about to become a father and to have a son. He gasps in realisation, sitting bolt upright as if his pillow has suddenly gone red hot. A child? A son? A family? His heart leaps for joy, but then the sneaking suspicions return. Just how was he going to trust Flora now though, knowing that her and Kraus have been together for the past weeks and that he has been ignored and treated like a blind imbecile.

He cannot tolerate the thought of them, it almost makes him physically sick. He returns to thinking about how it could be Kraus' baby, although he knows in his heart of hearts that Flora was devoted to him however pig-headed he was being. Although now, with his harsh words that evening, he doubts that she could ever forgive him again. It would be best, he concludes, if he does not see her before he leaves, best to give her some breathing space and himself time to collect his thoughts and put it all into perspective.

But a baby? His baby? He cannot help, through all his turmoil, a smile of delight. If it is true, if it is his baby as he now strongly suspects, this is his last chance to become a father – a father totally unlike his own, one that will encourage his child in everything he does and help him to follow his dreams and not see service as the be-all-and-end-all of life. To be served, not to serve. This final comforting thought in his head, he closes his eyes and drifts into a gentle sleep, his jumbled and confused thoughts finally beginning to make sense.

It is early morning when Jarvis steps out to his carriage, watching in silence as his few bags are loaded onto it. It is quite a fresh morning considering the humidity of the previous night, as he rubs his hands together and stamps his feet in his eagerness to leave Taplows for at least a few days. Without glancing back, he removes his top hat and begins to climb into the carriage, but he stops in his tracks when he feels a firm tap on the shoulder. He steps back and turns to see Felix Kraus standing there, his face more angry and red than Jarvis ever remembered seeing him before.

Kraus Ushering away the coachmen then leaning in and hissing harshly in Jarvis' face: So! So you thought you could just leave, did you? You are despicable! You say all those awful things to her then just turn your back on her - on your responsibilities - and...and...skulk off to Eastbourne!

Jarvis gritting his teeth: Now, just wait a minute Mr Kraus...

But Kraus isn't listening. He has absolutely no interest in anything Jarvis has to say at this point. He must speak out for Flora; the pale, vulnerable woman whose heart is now broken in two. Any opinion Jarvis may have no longer counted  
Kraus his hysteria almost worrying Jarvis: How dare you tell her that she has to leave! How DARE you! She cried herself to sleep in my arms because of you and your complete stupidity and arrogance!

Jarvis looking vindictively at the chef: Well, well, why doesn't it surprise me that you two were together AGAIN last night, Mr Kraus? If so then you are bigger fools than I thought you were!

Kraus shouting so loud Jarvis is convinced that everyone must be awake and watching them out of their windows: What choice do you give her! What damn choice, Walter! It is your child she is carrying! I thought you were a better man than this, I thought you loved her, and so did she. I may be a fool - a fool for thinking of you as a friend, but she then must be an even bigger fool for falling in love with you! If you're not going to be a gentleman and do the right thing by her then...  
Jarvis raises an eyebrow

Kraus his face stern and eyes wide as he realises what he is saying:...then maybe I will.

Jarvis trying not to show his devastation at this outburst, a look of complete distain for the chef on his face: Oh, so where will you go? What a double...sorry triple act you would make!

Kraus backing off slightly, frantically trying to make it look like he has thought this through: I will take her to my homeland. I have always wanted to open a restaurant, we can do that.

Jarvis almost laughing at this suggestion: And you have money for this, do you? Do you honestly think Flora could adapt to living in another country surrounded by a load of long-haired effeminate foreigners - oh hang on she goes about with you enough so you never know! And I suppose they will all be able to cook delightful dishes...

Kraus leaning over Jarvis, trying to use his height to his advantage: I have just about had enough of you, how dare you insult...

Jarvis his tone pure anger: Look, Mr Kraus, I will NOT have you or any other man bringing up my child, do you understand! I will not stand for it!

Kraus expression changing to one of surprise: So you admit it then? That it's your child?

Jarvis, instantly realising what he has just said, stops talking immediately and just stares at Kraus, their eyes fixed on each other. Eventually Jarvis looks away and fumbles for his pocket watch, indicating to the coachmen to come back and so they can get going

Jarvis mumbling as he looks at the time, without actually taking it in: Well, time's marching on, so I'd best be going. I should return in a few days.

Jarvis climbs into the carriage, shutting the door firmly behind him as Kraus leans in to prevent it from leaving

Kraus looking him straight in the eye: What about her, as you put it, 'resignation', Mr Jarvis? Do you still want it, or have you decided to face up to your responsibilities?

Jarvis in a quieter, almost sorrowful tone, but ignoring the question: Look after her while I'm gone.

Kraus moving away from the carriage, shaking his head in frustration: You English! You give out such confusing messages. I hope you have time to think while you're away, Mr Jarvis, if she goes you know you will never be truly happy, or complete, again. And neither will she.

Jarvis leans out and taps the side of the carriage, which then jolts and pulls away, but as he is facing backwards he is able to watch Felix, who is obviously is exhausted from all the arguing. He almost felt a pang of guilt towards the poor fellow as his final words rattle around in his mind. Annoyingly, he knows Kraus to be right.

Jarvis calling back to Kraus above the clattering of hooves: Will she ever forgive me!

Kraus replies, but even though he strains to hear he cannot catch his words. Sighing in disappointment, he settles back into the carriage to ponder his thoughts and his own stupidity.

Cut to the St. Peter's Church, the family chapel located to the rear of the house where that evening Fred and Joe have been instructed to clean and polish the church bells, as old Lady Mary Bourne had complained that Sunday that they had been sounding awfully muffled of late. Both Fred and Joe knew full well that all bells were in perfect order, as it was they who had the undesirable task of cleaning them on their return from Cumberland. Indeed, to everyone but her Ladyship, each note rang out long and clear, it was her aged hearing that was the only problem.

Fred had drawn the short straw yet again and so had the pleasure of ascending into the roof, clinging onto the wooden beams whilst hanging himself next to the huge 18th century brass bell 'Big Bertha' as that particular one was affectionately known. However, the names which Fred was currently calling out were much less flattering, some giving Joe reason to tell him off for his blasphemous nature in the house of god. To this criticism, Fred simply reminded his colleague that he was not angel himself, let alone a devout Christian.

When the blood eventually began to drain to Fred's head to an extent which was more than he could bear, he scaled back down the ladder and handed the rains over to Joe, who climbed up into the roof after a great sigh. After a few moments, Fred decided to play a little trick on his brother in arms and scarper, if only for a little while. Once Joe had realised what Fred had done, he tried calling out to him, initially in a calm and persuasive manner, which became more irrational and irate the longer he remained dangling upside down.

Eventually, he managed to haul himself up onto one of the beams and lay on top of it, like a cat on a high wall, only this wall was far too high for his liking. The say never look down, and Joe was beginning to realise the folly of not heeding this advise, as he soon started to become nauseous, and simply clung to the beam, falling silent when he realised his shouting was to no avail. After a short period of time, he came around a little and soon realised that he was no longer the only occupant of the building. Indeed, Lizzie had sneaked into the church, unnoticed at first by the suspended footman. He went to call out to her, to fetch the ladder that Fred had tantalizingly placed only inches away from his maximum arm span. However, as he cleared his, by now rather dry throat in order to speak, he fell silent again as he realised she was deep in prayer. Now this was a side he hadn't seen to the Glaswegian girl before, he had not thought her to have been of Charlotte's following (well, in a Protestant sense, rather than Catholic). He tried to put this aside, as by now he was beginning to feel dizzy once more, but again he resisted. This was because, thought she was sitting towards the front on the chapel, only a few rows from the altar, he noticed she had suddenly become a little louder, enabling him to just faintly hear her, if he turned his head ever-so-gently (for fear of loosing balance) to the left.

"Oh Lord, what should I do? You teach the forgiveness of even the most gravest of sins, yet how am I to find peace with this man I hardly know?"

'This man?' Joes asked himself, pulling a very confused expression, as he wondered who she could possibly be on about - 'was it Adams?' he wondered. 'I mean, he has an awful lot to be forgiven for, well, more than most anyway.' He soon realised that in going off on his own thread, he was probably missing Lizzie continuing.

"…. Please, let Will return soon, he would know for certain what to do, or at least help me understand just what this man is here for. And lastly oh Lord, whatever the outcome maybe, I pray that you will give us the strength to face it together. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen" Lizzie said softly, allowing her hand to rest on her heart as she began to rise from her kneeled position, bowing respectfully to the crucifix above the pulpit and turning to leave.

At which point, Joe, his mind racing with what Lizzie could have meant, and thousands of thoughts along the lines of 'just who was this man?', lost his grip a little, sliding to one side of the beam, struggling to maintain control. Despite all of his efforts, he let out a little yelp of fear, though luckily this coincided with Lizzie shutting the great Oak church door firmly. Joe panicked, breathing short sharp breaths, wondering (in his frenzied state) if each one may have been his last. Thankfully, Fred emerged around the vestry door, having used the passage from the house. Seeing the rather serious position in which his friend had found himself, Fred rushed over and placed the ladder directly under Joes left leg, which had slid from the beam. Once back on solid ground and after barking a few choice words at Fred, to which he got called a hypocrite, Joe continued to tell Fred what he had overheard Lizzie saying. Both footmen were baffled as to what she could have meant, but wasted no time in coming up with a few potential possibilities. End Scene

Flora waited till after breakfast before making her way downstairs to her office, she had wanted to make sure that Jarvis had left before she descended as she knew there was no way she could have seen him again without bursting into tears and humiliating herself. No she was determined that her last few days at Taplows would be spent in a dignified manner, slowly she sank down into her desk chair and drew out two sheets of writing paper, one she addressed to the Earl and the other to Walter. It did not take long to finish the letter of resignation, it was cold and to the point and of course full of lies, but it would satisfy the Earl and would allow her to save face. The other to Walter was much more difficult, again and again she started the letter but each time scrunched it up into a ball after only a few lines dissatisfied with everything she wrote as her emotions flew from one extreme to the other, from despair to anger and then back again.

It was then whilst staring at the now blank page as tears threatened that Mr Adams decided to pay her a visit.  
"Good Morning Mrs Ryan!" He practically bellowed at the fragile housekeeper, his grin widening as he took in her red eyes and pale complexion. "And how are we this morning? Morning Sickness can be a devil, can it not?"

Flora's head shot up and she stared at the under butler in shock, how did everybody seem to know before she had even told them? "What are you talking about Mr Adams?"

Adams stalked over to her and lent down, far to close to her for Flora's liking and so she sat right back in her chair. "Now don't play silly beggars with me missy, I heard you say so yourself, direct from those baby soft lips of yours!" He said leaning down further a leer now replacing his grin as he reached out and brushed his fingers across her lips. Quickly Flora knocked his hand away but he reached down and grasping her face between his hands kissed her firmly despite her struggles. After a few moments he released her, a satisfied smirk dancing across his features, "Not bad!" He commented as Flora jumped out of her chair and moved as far away from him as possible.

"How dare you!" She demanded, gasping for breath and choking in disgust as if any moment she would be sick.

"Oh come off it, its not like you've any right to be picky you being a fallen woman and everything! Pretty soon you'd be begging me for it anyway, after all pregnant women are notoriously randy and its not like you'll be getting any from Jarvis anymore considering what he thinks of you!"

"You told him, didn't you?" She cried her voice laden with emotion as she stormed over to him intent on striking him for his actions. However Adams caught her wrists and pulled her against him.

"I told you before I like feisty woman, looks to me like you're in need of a real man to put you firmly in your place! I'd even be willing to pay, after all a woman in your condition needs all the money she can get." He replied wickedly enjoying the look of disgust on her face as he brushed against her.

"Like I'd ever willingly let you touch me!" She spat as she clawed her way free, rubbing her sore wrists.

"Oh believe me considering what you've got to look forward to missy, sleeping with me is soon going to become very appealing!" Adams taunted her

"I doubt that, I'd rather die first!"

"Oh believe me you will wish you were dead! When you have no where left to go and no friend left to turn to for shelter and you end up in the workhouse, your pretty clothes rags, your looks gone and even your wee baby taken from you! Then you'll wish you had either died or even worse taken up my offer!"

"No that's not true, they wouldn't let it happen!" She replied shaking in terror.

"Who wouldn't your dear friend Mr Kraus or maybe you think Mr Jarvis will change his mind a forgive you? Don't be an idiot woman, like either of those gentlemen will place you before their careers! They've made their choice already its not like your probably the first woman either has knocked up and tell me deary has either of them married those unfortunate wretches in the past? No! So what would make you any different hmmmm? Face it Mrs Ryan your damaged goods, ruined and thrown out on the scrap heap only fit for the dogs to gnaw on!"

Flora couldn't stand this any longer and she pushed past Mr Adams and rushed upstairs tears streaming down her face. For a moment Adams stood shocked and watched her fleeing form, he'd never made her cry before! He'd made her run away many times, but always in anger or effrontery, never in tears and somewhere deep down inside of him his remnant of a conscience stirred and he regretted upsetting her so badly.

Almost totally oblivious to the events in which their superiors were caught up, the lower servants are currently settling down to lunch after the hustle and bustle of Jarvis' departure that morning. Though none of them were formerly required to be present, Grace and Susan caught the tail end of Kraus (rather heatedly) bidding Jarvis farewell from the orangey, where they had been given the task of watering the plants. It seemed very odd, that these two old friends were shouting (albeit inaudibly to the two maids) at each other, obviously parting on bad terms. Another factor which was plain to see, was the absence of Mrs Ryan. Grace thought it most peculiar, even despite their recent estrangement, that the housekeeper had not ventured from inside to wave off her beloved butler. Indeed, the last time the two were parted, one practically ran along side the carriage to prolong the departure - no such repeat performance this time.

Whereas Susan was happy enough to accept the situation between the two at face value I.e. they had had yet another row, the details of this latest dispute still puzzled Grace as she sat at the dining table, eating her lunch in slow motion, almost in a trance. She was only stirred from this when the conversation shifted to the absent Lizzie, who was busying herself, as she was the latest member of the household to be put off their food, an illness which could soon have been declared an epidemic. Having been informed of what Joe had overheard in Lizzie's rather intimate prayer in the church the previous evening, Fred was determined to get to the bottom of the riddle.

"What was it she kept saying Joe?" he enquired, wanting to refresh his own memory, as well as making the information common knowledge.

"How many more times!" Joe muttered in frustration before answering his colleague. "Something about finding peace with some man that she didn't really know, and from what I gathered, she met through Will."

"Ooooh, so we were wrong then!" Susan chirped up "Lizzie hasn't got her eye on Will after all, its one of his friends!"

"Funny, I didn't know he had any friends!" joked Fred

"Neither did I" agreed George in a more serious manner "Well, apart from us I mean. Grace, has Lizzie said anything to you about her men?"

"No!" answered Grace confidently, strongly defending her friend.

"Well, there was that creepy man you said was asking you about Will in to -ow!" Charlotte tried to remind her, but couldn't quite get her last word out, as Grace had kicked her quite hard under the table, at which Charlotte gave her a rather confused look, reaching down to massage her throbbing ankle.

But it was too late, George had the scent and began quizzing Grace. "What man Grace, what did he say to you, did he hurt you?" The last question indicated that he was getting a little carried away.

Grace took a deep breath, as she hadn't wanted George to find out that she had been followed (if only for part of the way), and she had promised Lizzie that she wouldn't tell him that someone had been asking after Will. "Oh, he was no one, just a drunk, he probably accidentally bought Will a drink one time and felt he was owed one!"

But George wasn't convinced, giving her a knowing look. She quickly erased his doubts as she placed her hand on his arm, put her forehead against his, looked into his eyes and assured him that there was nothing to worry about, adding he knew very well she could take care of herself, with a seductive wink. This was enough to persuade him, as well as raise a smile, as she sat back and resumed her lunch. However, Fred was not so easily satisfied, he was like a dog with a bone, just couldn't let this one go. After a few ludicrous and one very lewd suggestion, which he was universally panned for, he settled on the idea that this older man was Lizzie's new bit of rough. Luckily for Fred, it was after this less than favourable interpretation that Mr Adams brushed through the dining hall, picking up a ham and pickle sandwich on his way out the door.

However, he had heard some mention of his daughter and a new fancyman. In a rare moment of fatherly concern, he did stop to think was it such a good idea her having a fella? But as he continued marching down the corridor, tucking into his lunch, his more natural instincts took over, and he concluded that it might actually do her some good. He smiled at the thought that his little girl (however much she had been estranged from him during her childhood) was growing up and getting, as he would describe it, an education. end scene

Flora dashed along the corridor ignoring the protests of Lizzie as she barged into the girl laden with a heavy basket of dirty laundry and without a backwards glance she barged into her room slamming the door firmly behind her. She leant back against the door gasping and struggling for breath, finally staggering across the room she collapsed into her chair tears flowing freely down her face and sobs wracking her already shaking frame. It was then that her gaze fell on the Italian book and her thoughts returned to Jarvis and their last meeting, Mr Adams's accusations and insinuations were still forefront in his mind.

As much as she hated Andrew Adams for saying everything he did, she knew he was right. Jarvis had told her last night he had washed his hands of her and what could Felix do, would he abandon her to? Their conversation by the lake rose unbidden in her mind and she clearly recalled him stating quite plainly he had left the love of his life, Claude because he threatened his career, why should he be any different with her after all they were only friends not lovers? Slowly she reached into her drawer and drew out some more paper, picking up her pen she tried to write but her hand was shaking so badly the ink was flicked all over the page, what I need she thought is a drink to steady my nerves. Despairingly she walked towards her door fingering the cellar keys on her belt, but she couldn't get one from there as that would mean going back downstairs and facing everybody like this. Instead she cautiously opened the door and slipped along the corridor, down to Mr Adams's room which using the master key on her belt she entered. The room was as to be expected a pigsty and Flora picked her way across the cluttered floor avoiding empty glasses and dirty socks until she got to his wardrobe. Flinging the door open wide she rummaged around until she heard the clink of glass on glass, slowly her hand closed around a bottle and pulling it out she discovered a bottle of the Earls finest single malt. At first she looked around for a clean glass but finding none decided to confiscate the whole bottle, hiding it behind her back as she dashed back to her room.

At first Flora had only intended to steady her nerves with a quick drink, before settling down to write her farewell letter to Walter. However she could not exorcise from her mind the vile things both Mr Adams and Mr Jarvis had said to her, and slowly one drink turned into two and so on until half an hour later she had drunk almost half the bottle. Despairingly she turned back to her unwritten letter the few lines on the page now illegible in her drunken state, and scrunched it up determined to throw it into the fire but her shot was way off target and this was the last straw.

Slowly the room spinning she slumped off of her chair and crawled over to her bed, however she was too drunk to pull her self up off of the floor to collapse on it. In her frustration she tried to use her bedside table to lever herself up but this only resulted on her collapsing back onto the floor the contents of her cabinet tipped out all over her. Sobbing she buried her head in her lap, what was the point her life was ruined already did it make any difference if she didn't sleep on the bed? Stretching out on the floor tears blurring her eyes she just wanted to go to sleep, sleep and never wake up, never have to face those smug faces, the gossiping and more importantly her own shame!

Blinking away her tears she tried to focus on something, anything. In front of her lay a small box, and Flora frowned as she tried to pick it up it wasn't her's! Opening it she saw it was a small pill box, then she vaguely recalled Kraus leaving it there for her the previous evening, they were to help her get some sleep. Well that was what she needed now wasn't it to sleep and preferably not wake up. Pushing herself up into a sitting position Flora tipped the remaining pills into her hand and pushed them into her mouth, then before her courage failed her she picked up the whiskey bottle and drew deep gulps straight from the bottle to wash them down. All it took was a few minutes before she began to dose and she smiled to herself as sleep finally took her.

After grabbing his lunch on the run Mr Adams turned to the next thing on his to do list for the day checking the family silver. However he had barely started his inventory when he slammed down a teapot bending the spout in the process, damn his conscience. Why was it troubling him now? By all rights he should be living it up, Jarvis away, Will in London and Mrs Ryan hidden away in her room, shouldn't he be pulling every scam imaginable instead of standing here feeling guilty over a few home truths! But then he remembered the tears on her face, so like Rebecca's tears when he left, and his conscience stirred once more; he realised if he was ever to get back his peace of mind he had to apologise to Mrs Ryan or at least check she was alright. Now the decision made he threw down his polishing cloth and turned on his heel storming past a confused Joe and up to the staff corridor.

When he reached her door he decided to knock rather than call out, if she realised who it was she might not open the door! However despite this precaution she still did not respond, shrugging his shoulders Adams concluded he must have missed her and that maybe she had recovered enough to return to her office. He was just turning to leave when brushing against the door it clicked open, that was odd Adams knew that when not in her room Mrs Ryan always kept the door locked. Logically he concluded that she must have just forgotten this time, but there was something gnawing away in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise, besides if there was no one there it couldn't hurt to check now could it!

He grasped the handle and pushing it down firmly opened the door wide. For a moment he stood frozen in shock the room was in a worse state than his, it looked as is someone had torn it apart with their bare hands. He stepped into the room and lit a candle, and then he saw her lying on the floor clutching a sheet she had clawed off the bed, her face ashen and her breathing strained. Adams bent down and tried shaking her awake, "Mrs Ryan, Mrs Ryan you've got to wake up!" He grasped the sheet and pulled it out from her fists, exposing for the first time the empty bottle and pillbox by her side.

"Jesus lassie! What have you done?" He exclaimed in desperation. Leaning over he checked for a pulse, it was weak but it was steady. Adams pulled her into a sitting position and slapped her on both cheeks, "Mrs Ryan, Flora answer me!" He grasped both her shoulders and shook her, "Answer me dammit!" Slowly Flora opened her eyes and moaned something incoherent before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Adams looked around the room for some water, smelling salts anything that might help him wake her up but there was nothing and he couldn't risk leaving her alone to go and find some. Making his mind up he leant down and gathered her up in his arms, carrying her out of the room and down the corridor towards the bathroom. "Is there anybody up here? He bellowed down the staff corridor, "I need help!"

Suddenly the maid's door opened and Lizzie darted out into the corridor gasping in horror as she saw her father carrying the unconscious housekeeper. "Oh my god! What's happened?"

"Don't waste time asking questions girl, run go get Mr Kraus and Mrs Ryan's medical box!" Then as she turned and ran down the corridor he yelled after her, "Lizzie don't tell anyone else, do you here me?" She paused and nodded before heading off down the stairs.

Adams kicked open the bathroom door and placing Flora gently on the floor grasped a bowl and filled a glass of water which he tried unsuccessfully to get her to drink. Sighing to himself he realised the only solution was to get her to be sick, to try and get everything she'd taken out of her system before it could do anymore damage, grimacing he stuck his fingers down her throat causing her to wretch automatically. Quickly he withdrew his fingers and held her head over the bowl as she continued to wretch. It was in this position that Lizzie and Mr Kraus found them a few minutes later.

Felix automatically dashed to Flora's side determined to get her as far away from Mr Adams, whom he automatically assumed was responsible for her present condition.

"Don't be a fool Felix!" Adams yelled keeping a firm grip on her, "you're of no help acting like a wee idiot! She did this to herself!"

"No!" Felix and Lizzie gasped at the same time.

"She wouldn't do something like that!" Felix retorted.

"Really?" Adams countered still supporting Flora's head. "Then who did? Father Christmas, or perhaps the Tooth Fairy? With everything that's happened to her in last few days I surprised you haven't been expecting this!"

"Will she be alright?" Lizzie asked trembling, reaching out to her father for reassurance.

Adams smiled grimly, "I don't know Lizzie love, even if she does there's no telling how she'll be when she wakes up and as for the wee baby….!"

"Oh no!" Felix exclaimed. "They have to be alright, Walter would never forgive himself if anything happened!"

"Oh damn him to hell!" Adams yelled at Kraus, who shrank back automatically at the anger in Adams voice, "he's the one whose put her in this state, like we should worry about his guilty conscience!" Or mine he thought to himself.

After a few minutes Flora stopped being sick, already her cheeks had more colour and her breathing was more regular. Felix managed to get her to swallow a few glasses of water but now they all knew it was a matter of time, of waiting and seeing how long it took for her to come round. Adams knew it could be a while and so they organised a rota, someone would be there when she finally woke up and an exhausted Adams allowed Felix to take the first watch.

Two hours later ,Kraus is still sat next to Flora, who remains deep in unconsciousness. He can tell that she is feverish, the sweat appearing on her forehead and dampening her hair and neck, so he abandons his book and pats her face with a cold cloth. He gently takes her hand and strokes her hair, looking at her with sadness and pity in his eyes. He fails to notice Adams silently pushing the door open.

Kraus quietly and softly: Oh, Flora, what have you done to yourself? You know he loves you, he didn't mean what he said. I know you'll never forgive yourself if you've done something to your baby.

Adams coughing slightly and causing Kraus to look up: Mr Kraus, do you want me to take over? I expect you will need to prepare dinner very soon.

Kraus in harsh whisper: I am not quite sure whether I should let you anywhere near her to be perfectly honest, Mr Adams, but I will for now.

He stands up and walks over to Adams, who is in the doorway. He glares hard at him as he brushes past

Kraus: I know you said something to her, and I vow to find out what it is!

Adams doesn't reply, gritting his teeth. Kraus glances back at Flora, who hasn't stirred during the brief discussion. He looks back at Adams in distain, then indicates to the water jug

Kraus in a low whisper: If she comes round while I'm not here she needs plenty of water, then I expect you to come and get me. I'll make sure Lizzie stays nearby, and she will need to see the doctor, but I am sure we can rely on his confidentiality with regards to her condition.

Before waiting for Adams to reply, the chef stalks off down the hallway and back to the kitchens, where he would tell the lower staff that Mrs Ryan has a bit of a stomach bug and not to worry. Adams realises that Kraus has left his book, so he picks it up to read it, but frowns when he sees it's written in German. Slapping it back down on the sideboard, he sits firmly down next to Mrs Ryan and closes his eyes, determined to grab ten minutes of shut-eye. But too many thoughts are spinning round in his head, so he opens his eyes again and stares at the helpless woman before him. She is not completely unlike Rebecca, he thinks. Very delicate to look at but with a fiery, passionate personality and a stubbornness that he found very admirable in a woman. But he would never have said such awful, terrible things to Lady Farquharson. In fact, he isn't quite sure why he said them to Flora. He begins to hate himself again, for what he has become, what Lizzie must think of him. She came all this way to find him and she must be desperately disappointed by what she discovered. He must be a terrible failure in Rebecca's eyes too.

The only two women who could possibly care for him, and he manages to alienate and abandon them both. He says 'sorry' quietly to himself, although it could be said to Rebecca, Lizzie or Flora. And maybe even Will. Frowning, he dismisses any ideas of apologising to Will for anything, or to Jarvis for that matter. He would always hate them both, especially as being indebted to Jarvis meant he was trapped at Taplows possibly for eternity. He knows that Jarvis secretly loves the power he now holds over him, and this makes him bitter. His thoughts are now scattered, flying between anger towards Will and sorrow towards Flora. He had just begun to think about maybe being a better role model to Lizzie when Flora begins to moan and move slightly in her bed, breaking his concentration

Adams gently: Mrs Ryan? Are you awake?

Flora breathes heavily, every bone in her body aching and her throat feeling sore and scratchy. She gulps hard, her mouth tasting of vomit and alcohol while her stomach churns and her head pounds. Slowly and painfully she opens her eyes to focus on Adams, and then suddenly their last conversation comes flooding back to her. Fearing the worst, she pulls the covers up further and begins to shake

Flora her voice weak and wobbly: Get away from me! What did you do to me!

Adams pouring water into a mug: I think you did this to yourself, lassie. Now you must drink this.

Adams moves towards her with the mug, but she pulls back in her bed, a look of fear in her eyes

Flora: No! Don't touch me, I don't want you anywhere near me!

Adams in frustration: I'm haven't done anything to you, and I'm not going to. I was wrong–I should never have said those things to you, I'm sorry, Mrs Ryan. And you know you don't often hear an apology from me.

He attempts a friendly smile, but Flora only looks at him, startled, as she slowly leans up to take to mug from his grasp. She downs it, but as she does so the hazy, distant memory of downing another source of liquid that morning slowly creeps into her consciousness, causing to cough and splutter. Adams takes the mug off her, then goes over to the door and peers out, where Lizzie is sat on a chair sewing.

Adams: Lizzie, get Mr Kraus, she's awake.

Lizzie leaping up from her seat, smiling with relief before hurrying away: Oh, thank the heavens!

As Adams turns back into the room, his expression changes to one of panic as he sees that she is about to bring back up the water. Darting forward, he snatches up the ceramic blue bowl from the floor and shoves it under her chin just in time. After she is finished she flops back down onto her pillow, shutting her eyes again and wishing she had in fact never woken up. Everything seems worse than before, and she is beginning to worry what her behaviour has done to her unborn child.

Flora as Adams forces another drink of water on her: Where's Felix?

Adams: Lizzie has gone to fetch him, don't worry.

Flora beginning to panic: What, Lizzie knows about this!

Adams trying to sound reassuring: She's a good girl, she won't tell anyone what happened.

Flora slowly drinking: Oh, I must have looked a terrible mess when Felix found me.

Adams momentarily stalling before speaking: Actually, it was I who found you, Mrs Ryan. Out cold on the floor, that pill box in your hand.

Flora, although wanting to show gratitude, only managed a half smile of thanks as she still hates him for what he said to her, although deep in the recesses of her mind she is trying to get rid of those harsh words which she knows to be true. Nobody will want her now, and on top of it everyone will think she's crazy. She will be locked away in an asylum forever with no husband and her baby taken away to an orphanage where it will grow up and never know what a loving mother it could have had. But now Flora's only priority is to get out of Taplows before Jarvis returns – she can't face any more hurt and having him look at her with that same scorn and disgust could quite possibly send her over the edge again. She feels weak and sore but never the less manages to push off the covers and move to the edge of the bed.

Flora leaning forward, her head wracked with pain: I must….must leave. I've got to leave. I…… Grasping the bowl off Adams, who is staring at her in surprise at her sudden movement from the bed, she vomits again and begins to sob

Adams shaking his head and pushing her gently back down by the shoulders: You're not going anywhere, missy. You're staying right there, and anyway the doctor has to see you yet.

Flora holding her hands up: No, no doctor. Nobody else must know.

Adams: You have to see the doctor, Mrs Ryan. He's a good man, you know that, he'll help you. Mr Kraus and I may have an excellent bedside manner, but unfortunately we don't have the know-how where popping pills are concerned, or babies for that matter!

Flora, conceding defeat in this discussion, winces as she shifts herself back into bed as Kraus and Lizzie appear at the door

Kraus dashing over to her in concern: Flora, my dear, back into bed! Shooting a glare at Adams I thought I told you to watch her!

Flora: It's alright, Felix, he's been fine. Honestly.

Adams rises from the chair, indicating to Lizzie that they should leave and leave her and Kraus to talk. After all, everyone knows that Kraus was the last person to talk to Jarvis before he left, so maybe he could give her a glimmer of hope. With one last guilt-ridden glance, Adams leaves the room, his daughter obediently following her father.

Momentarily, the two stood in the doorway to the housekeeper's room, watching with unwavering concern as after having successfully managed to get some water down Mrs Ryan's neck and keep it there, Kraus placed the half empty beaker onto her bedside table. He moved to sit in the chair next to her, but it was at this moment she began to cry once again, so the chef thought it best to draw her into a hug, rocking her gently before approaching the subject of Jarvis. At this point, Lizzie felt she'd seen enough, it was all very upsetting, but now in slight relief, she turned to walk down the corridor.

She didn't get far though, as she expected Adams to follow, which initially he didn't, causing her to retrace her steps. He just stood there, keeping watch as if it were a duty only he could perform. He didn't quite understand it, he just couldn't shake the niggling feeling that in someway he, was not so much responsible, but had certainly aided, however unwittingly, her bid, as it was his whiskey she knew exactly where to find. His view was only blocked as Lizzie closed the door gently, with a soothing "Come away…" from his daughter, who tentatively took her father's arm, almost guiding him down the Upper Servants corridor.

After a few uneasy moments of silence, as this father-daughter experience was unfamiliar to them both, Lizzie tried to strike up some form of conversation. "Do you think she'll be alright, Mr Adams?" For a second, he thought it most odd she should address him so formally, especially as no one was around to hear it, but decided to stick with whatever she felt most comfortable. "Oh I should think so" he answered, trying to sound upbeat "But Im not sure about that wee bairn of-" he stopped mid-sentence. Had he said too much, or did she already know about the baby? Things had been so hectic earlier on, he no longer knew what was what, but concluded that, if she didn't, the damage was done now.

Unsure what to make of the revelation, Lizzie just contemplated the potential consequence. Soon after she had arrived at Taplows, she had been there with Grace through her miscarriage, she had seen both the physical and emotional stress it could place upon a woman, and her heart sank a little at the thought that Mrs Ryan may now have to go through the same thing.

As the matter was one they could hardly make a light-hearted conversation out of, they returned to their awkwardness, though remained walking side-by-side, until a conversation of a most distasteful nature (given the circumstances just passed), was overheard, coming from the lower servants dining room. At first the pair stayed out of sight, eavesdropping on the worker's conversation.

Adams didn't need to poke his head around the corner to see who the primary culprit was, Fred Matkin had an unmistakeable gob on him when he got going, but the former under-butler couldn't resist knowing who his companions were. Fred was sat at the dinner table, shining his black boots, which grated on Adam's nerves at the best of times. Adding to that, instead of being in the kitchen, both Susan and surprisingly Charlotte had brought their vegetables (intended for the evening meal) into the dining room, peeling and chopping them onto their wooden chopping boards. Stretching just far enough to see maximise his view, without being seen, Adams could also spy George who was cleaning the inside of the piano.

Currently oblivious to the fact that he had been overhead, Fred continued undeterred. "Well I don't believe that fudge Kraus fobbed us off with for one second - stomach bug my eye!"

"Well it must be something pretty serious, as she hasn't even ranted about the beds not being made!" agreed Charlotte, which was most out of character for her.

"Well you know what it is, don't you. It's because Mr. Jarvis has up sticks again, probably after another huge row."

"I hate to say, I think your right, you saw it yourself, even Kraus got involved this time." Charlotte carried on, now seemingly developing a taste for gossiping.

"Where's he gone anyway?" chirped up another voice, which didn't belong to any of the four Adams had seen, he just couldn't put his finger on who it was, but then he remembered, Johnny.

"Off to some funeral wasn't it? Or some family member in a bad way anyway" the Second footman finally entered the conversation, with the only genuine answer of the conversation.

"You never know, maybe another wife then eh!" offered Fred, chuckling to himself.

"Yeeeeah" Susan almost drooled, eyes widening as that possibility dawned on her.

By this stage, both Lizzie and Adams had heard enough, the former moved sharply to go in there and put them straight, or at least shut them up at any rate. However, Adams restrained her ensuring "Don't you worry my Lizzie, Ill take care of them, you carry on".

After a little hesitation, brought on by her anger at her friends' collective stupidity, Lizzie nodded, then continued down the corridor, on her way to the wash room with a towel which had inadvertently been dirtied by Mrs Ryan, that needed cleaning up straight away.

Adams on the other hand, took a deep breath, before swinging around the door frame, proceeding to verbally bash each and everyone of them, reprimanding them for their childish and unprofessional assertions. For most of his rant, all present clean forgot that he was no longer their superior, all looking sheepishly at the floor. However, even when the fact dawned on them, all still remained quiet, even Fred, as they could see he was clearly in no mood to give consequence to their allegations

As Lizzie stood at the washroom sink, scrubbing the soiled towel in lukewarm water with only a fraction of soap powder, her anger began to subside as she knew that had they known what she did, they wouldn't have been so quick to spread malicious rumours. But it flared up periodically as she wished they would sometimes be less hasty with their judgement. She comforted herself with the fact that Grace was of a like mind on that front, she never really thrived on gossip. However, the housemaid's chain of thought was suddenly broken by a clattering in the smaller courtyard.

She looked out through the window, but couldn't place anyone out there, though she had definitely heard something. She waited a few moments and when there was no further disruption, she simply concluded that it was Mrs Stanwick (of the bird variety) on another rampage. 'Dizzy bird' she thought to herself 'it must have knocked over one of the smaller, empty milk churns'. But then she remembered they had only had a delivery that morning, which Mr Adams had to attend to in the absence of Jarvis, Flora, Kraus and Will.

'No way cud that crazy peacock have knocked over one of those' Lizzie reflected, realising that someone must be out there, as it was definitely the sound of metal rolling across the cobbles she had heard. As there was clearly no one else around, and she had almost finished with the towel, she paused her duties, as she went in search of the solution.

She exited the building via the laundry door, and out into the courtyard, which she immediately scanned. She suddenly stopped when, over in the far corner, she saw a mini disaster area. There were now a number of the metal barrels which had been knocked over, but no one was in sight, or so she thought. She dashed to the end of the courtyard which lead out to the front of the house, and into the larger courtyard. She looked one way then the other, finally resigning herself to the fact that whoever it was, they must've gone.

Walking back, she knew full well she wouldn't be able to pick a full milk churn up by herself, but still wanting to assess the damage, but soon discovered that she was not alone. As she approached them, she could see someone, or rather someone's foot poking out amongst the toppled barrels. Cautiously she kept going until she was almost standing over the body, it was very still. She couldn't see the face, so tried to move one of them, but soon wished she hadn't.

At this moment, whoever it was, sat bolt upright and after rubbing his eyes, turned to look at Lizzie. He was quite shabbily dressed, and was faintly wreaking of Gin. He attempted to grapple to his feet, at which Lizzie leapt backwards, but his limbs failed him, consequently he fell back against the wall and sat on the ground looking up at her. As he opened his eyes fully for the first time, Lizzie gasped in horror, as she realised who it was, she'd know those eyes anywhere.

Her fears were confirmed as the drunk managed to slur a "Wiiiiiiiiillllllllll?", his eyes clearly as unreliable as his legs.

"No, Im not Will!" Lizzie hollered back at him, though instantly lowered her voice, as she didn't want anyone else to hear. "Will isn't here"

"Don't give me that!" the now no-so-stranger sneered at her. "Where is my son?"

'Son! Oh, that's a bit rich isn't it!' was her initial thought, though she knew that in order to get rid of him, she'd have to humour him, and if she couldn't, convince him Will wasn't there, or better still, didn't work there anymore.

He began again, impatient for an answer, but Lizzie cut him off, desperate to keep the noise level to a minimum. "Honestly sir, will isn't here, he hasn't been for some time."

"So wheres he gone then?" the ruffian demanded

"I don't know, I've only just got here, never even met h-"

Only just registering what he had just called him, he stammered. "Sir s-I-I-I-r! I aint never been called one of them before - William Forrest the First I am!" he declared, with a cheezey grin, once again trying to stand, giving her a shaky bow.

Lizzie's uneasiness deepened, as he showed no signs of going and was switching between drunken cheeriness and down right nastiness.

"But you my lovely can call me Bill!" he continued giving her an exaggerated wink, which made her shudder. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, they did (well potentially)

Mr Adams, even though he had acknowledged to Flora that Lizzie was trustworthy, he had not reiterated the need to keep silent about the unfortunate events of the day, before Lizzie had left him to deal with the gossipers. As a result, he now caught up with her to stress that point, but getting more than he bargained for.

Lizzie hadn't realised he was there until he was stood just behind her subduedly bellowing "What is the meaning of this? Who the hell is he?"

Before Lizzie could explain, Will's dad began to introduce himself "I'm Bill!" he said triumphantly.

Adams took his daughter to one side for a moment - "Who the hell is Bill! Do you know him?" he quizzed

Lizzie was now in a delayed state of shock, and was forced to concede. "Ye-ye-yes, this is…. Bill, um, he's just a little lost?"

"I'll say! The pub is about 2 miles that-a-way! Im amazed he's made it this far!"

At the mention of the word pub, Bill's eared pricked up, which did not go unnoticed by Adams. "That's right, you wanna get back down there pal, come on, Ill show you the way…"

With that, he grabbed hold of the man's arm, and slung it round his own neck before beginning to haul the wanderer in the direction of the lane leading to Tappleton. Before turning the corner Adams shot a 'we'll discuss this later' look at Lizzie who now almost wished the courtyard would open up and swallow her. She herself then staggered back into the house.

Meanwhile upstairs Kraus was still rocking the sobbing Flora, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back as she leant against his shoulder for support. Finally she came up for air and looked her friend in the eye for the first time since he had entered the room. Slowly Felix reached out and wiped the tears off her cheeks, before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Feeling any better now?" He asked.

"A little. Oh Felix what have I done? I thought things were the worst they could get before…. Well you know before my, well my outburst but now!" She cried tears once more springing to her eye. "Oh my baby, what have I done to my baby?"

"Shhhs!" Felix whispered, "we don't know that Flora, you may be lucky and the baby will be fine!"

"But what if it isn't? What if after going through all this misery something happens, if I loose my baby because of my own stupidity, this was my last chance to be a mother and because I was only concerned with my own feelings and welfare I may have robbed myself of the one thing I've always wanted! Oh Felix what am I going to do, even if I am lucky and the baby is fine, Mr Jarvis wants me out by the time he gets back and I have nowhere to go, I can't go home my family has enough mouths to feed and without help from me financially I don't know how they'll cope?"

"Is that what is worrying you?" Felix asked softly raising an eyebrow. "Do you really think I'd just let you leave and ruin your life like that? I'm your friend Flora, I'd never let that happen not when it is in my power to make us both respectable."

Flora drew away from him, a puzzled expression on her face, "what do you mean Felix?"

"Marry me Flora?" He asked quietly.

Astonished Flora sat there her mouth open in shock, marry Felix it was ridiculous he didn't even like girls. As if sensing her thoughts Felix began to speak, "I know what you're thinking Flora, but it wouldn't be a marriage in the traditional sense it would be a friendship which would make us both respectable in the eyes of the world. We could move to Prussia, my family would finally welcome me back with a wife and child on the way. We could set up in business I've always dreamed of leaving service and setting up a restaurant, cooking for people who would appreciate my talents." He stopped and looked at Flora, tying to gage her reaction, however she seemed to have withdrawn and was thinking deeply. "Take all the time…."

"I accept!" She blurted out shocking Felix to silence he hadn't expected that, he had at least thought she would want to think about it a while or at least talk to Jarvis first before making up her mind, and somewhere in the back of his mind Jarvis's parting words echoed in his mind. How would Walter react to this he wondered, he had reacted so badly when Kraus had first mentioned he would be willing to take on Walter's responsibility?

"Are you sure Flora? It would mean leaving everything behind, your family, friends, Walter!"

"I'm sure!" She said turning to look Felix straight in the eye, a slight smile tugging at her mouth, adding "Thank you!" Before leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Felix half smiled, standing up and making his move to leave her to rest, hoping they weren't going to do something they'd regret for the rest of their lives. He opened the door and with nod stepped into the corridor, he closed her door and leant back against it letting out the breath he had been holding. With any luck Walter would still be as adamant about his child as he was when he left and he would be able to convince Flora to marry him instead, it wasn't that he shirked from carrying out his offer he just knew in his heart that those two belonged together.

As both Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus were preoccupied, the lower servants were still having to occupy themselves. It was a rare occasion that all the Upper servants were no where to be seen, even if there were only two of them currently in residence. They had also made a group decision not to take anymore flack from the recently demoted Andrew Adams, as almost immediately after he had left the dining room, and after a fraction of a second of feeling guilty over what they'd said, the topic of conversation reverted back to their estranged superiors.

They all conceded that Jarvis hadn't run off to attend to another wife, as he was too principled a fellow to commit bigamy. They concluded that Mrs Ryan was far too upset over the Butler's departure to show her face and that Mr Kraus was therefore constantly needed on hand with a fresh supply of handkerchiefs. Most had well and truly given up the ghost of a possible affair going on between the two (obviously not being privy to what had just occurred), as Grace (now returned from her seemingly endless jam-making duties) and George had subtly managed to convince them otherwise, without revealing their theory concerning the chef. However, this wasn't easy as Johnny most adamant about what he had seen by the ornamental pond, returning to this time and time again, as it was the only argument he could muster.

As they agreed to disagree on the matter, the general tone turned to animosity towards Adams, who Fred thought had gotten just a little too big for his footman shoes earlier, which was pretty much universally recognised. This left them to resolve to bring him down a peg or too. However, the particulars of the plan were not discussed, as they fell silent on the Adams front as Lizzie entered the room, a fact that did not escape the intuitive housemaid.

She was now a lot calmer that when her father had left her, dragging Will's father down the lane and out of sight. She had given herself a few moments to recuperate, hanging out the towel she had been washing, before going to seek some company. She had hoped to be able to catch Grace before she had finished with her jams, but as she hadn't, she swallowed hard and set off to the dining room.

She walked in head held high, trying to act as if the whole sorry mess hadn't happened, but Grace noticed her friend's unusually subdued disposition. Lizzie made a bee-line to sit next to her confident, and on picking up a spud and a sharp knife to help with dinner preparations, Grace enquired quietly "Are you alright Liz? Your looking a little peaky"

However quietly Grace had asked, George, sitting on the other side of her began to comment "She's right you know luv, hope you havn't got a bit of what Mrs. Ryan has!"

Despite recognising his tone was one of genuine concern, Lizzie let out a surprised cough, wanting to protest "NO I MOST CERTAINLY DON'T!" but, managing a controlled "No, I think Im just a little tired".

"I'm not surprised, you missed your breakfast" Charlotte chipped in, clearly reverting back to her familiar mother-hen type ways.

"Look, guys I'm fine okay, just didn't get a lot of sleep last night, that's all" she said trying to ease their concerns, but equally trying to get them off her back.

"Well you made up for it this morning" Susan snorted

"What do you mean by that!" Lizzie challenged.

Clearly Susan had hit on a nerve here, but carried on regardless. "We havn't seen you all morning, its fine for some, lazing around half the day, so of us have had work to do!"

At this Lizzie went very quiet, but gave Susan a deathly stare. She thought to herself 'NO, what you mean is some of us have had a lot of gossiping to do!' However, she didn't come out and say this, as she didn't want her fellow servants knowing that she had been listening to them with Mr Adams, as firstly they'd see it as some form of deceit, and secondly, they'd want to know why she was skulking about with Adams.

Sensing the tension between the two maids, Grace stepped in to try to diffuse the situation. "All Susan means Liz is that last we saw of you, you were heading up to the staff residence rooms, didn't even turn back when I shouted after you!"

Although she knew that Grace wasn't mad at this, Lizzie felt she should apologise to her best friend. "Sorry Grace, I couldn't have heard you, I was in such a…." she struggled, not wanting to let anything slip.

"Its ok, really" Grace assured her "We just assumed you'd gone to have a lie down."

Relieved that Grace had come up with a simple and plausible reason for her absence, Lizzie replied. "Yes, just wanted to have a quick forty winks while things were quiet"

In all her anxiety in trying to cover up both of the mornings rather unexpected events, Lizzie failed to notice Mr Adams emerge form the hallway. Indeed, she wasn't aware of his presence until he stood over her left shoulder and said the words she hoped he wouldn't for just a few hours longer. As she hadn't expected him back quite so soon.

"Lizzie, when you can spare the time, I'd like a little word." Adams said in a calm voice, but Lizzie could detect a rather stern tone. Knowing she couldn't escape it, she simply agreed.

Satisfied with her answer, he strode off, leaving the room silent in his wake

"That man really knows how to kill a conversation doesn't he!" complained Fred, who was still bitter at being told off by the Scotsman earlier.

Gradually, the conversation got going again, it was hard for the staff not to have something to gripe about. However, Lizzie stayed still and silent. She wracked her brains, what if Will's dad had told Adams who he was, or worse still, what he was? The only certainty Lizzie had at that moment was that facing her father's wrath later was not something she was looking forward to.


	4. Episode 4

Johnny bolts into the servants quarters, panting and blue in the face, and darts up to the nearest person who happens to be Grace, kneeding her dough. She gives him a cursory glance, continuing to punch her bread as if it were the face of her worst enemy, as he leans on the table

Johnny: Have you seen Mr Adams! He's….he's back!

Grace momentarily stopping: Who's back? Mr Jarvis?

Johnny shaking his head quickly: No! The Earl! I saw the coaches in the distance!

Grace suddenly stops, wiping her hands on a cloth and making for the door. She turns to Johnny and, frowning, indicates to him to follow her

Grace sighing: Come on then! We'd better go and find Mr Adams and George. I'm sure this is a day earlier than was expected!

They don't have to go far – Adams is on his way to the servants quarters, looking once again for Lizzie, when Grace catches him and explains. His face turns white and Grace can tell that he is starting to panic. This early return is indeed most unexpected, but she doesn't expect to see him quite this distressed. But he had heard the rumours before the Earl left about the Fiffington-Piffles, and now with Mrs Ryan in bed after an overdose Adams could very well do without this kind of inconvenience

Adams breathing in deeply and thinking he should never have had that double whiskey: Right, well, I'd best get upstairs then! He stalks off, calling out for George as he goes.

Outside, the two carriages are pulling up in front of the house while Adams appears, George in tow. George opens the door for the Earl, who steps out and hurries past him and up the stairs, swinging his cane almost violently from side to side. Adams, still in under-butler mode after Will's absence, attempts to greet his employer, but the Earl is having none of it and barely acknowledges his presence until he shoves his top hat at him

Earl in low, grumbling tone: Where is Jarvis!

Adams bowing slightly: He has yet to return from Eastbourne yet, sir.

Earl turning red in the face: Well, it's just not good enough! He should be here! Where the hell is everyone!

Adams reluctantly: I'm afraid there seems to be a bit of illness going around, m'Lord. Mrs Ryan is I'm sorry to say a little unwell in her bed sir.

Earl looking as if Adams has just told him that Monty and Barnaby have been accidentally baked in one of Kraus' pies: In bed! When there's this place to run! I don't pay her to sleep, Mr Adams!

Adams: No, sir.

For a moment Adams was concerned the Earl was going to order him to get Mrs Ryan up, but instead he mutters something about fetching the doctor. Adams doesn't think for a moment this is out of concern for his housekeeper's welfare, it was so she could be up and about soon and without little disruption as possible to his silver spoon lifestyle. But Adams can tell this setback is by no means what is on the Earl's mind. Glancing back he sees Will talking to George and both men frowning and rubbing their chins and shaking their heads. He looks back at the Earl, who is stood in the hall glancing wistfully around it, a desperate sadness in his eyes.

Adams: Will your Lordship be requiring a meal very soon? I can have chef prepare……

Earl dismissing Adams' words with a cursory wave: No, no food. Not yet. I will retire to my bedroom for a nap. When is Jarvis expected back?

Adams trying to sound positive: Oh, in the next day or so sir. Not long, I am sure.

But as the Earl is about to climb the stairs, Lady Caroline bounces up to him, grinning in her girlish manner

Lady C: Oh father, you're back, and so soon!

The Earl kisses his daughter, but he is obviously not interested in talking to her. Nevertheless she chatters away, following him upstairs, Adams walking a little way behind them. Lady Caroline knows very well why her father went to London, Adams thinks, she is just trying to put her father at ease so he will spill the beans on her inheritance. She then walks after him into his room, shutting the door behind her. Adams knows that Will will soon be looking for him, ready to dish out the next order or two just to annoy him, but he cannot resist hanging back to eavesdrop on the Earl's conversation with his daughter. Carefully, he leans in towards the door, keeping an eye out for anyone coming. Most of what he hears is, frustratingly, mumbled, but gradually the voices get louder and louder until Lady Caroline's high-pitched squeal can be heard through the door and down the hallway

Lady C: I don't care, daddy! I don't care about Freddie, he's a complete beast, I just want MY MONEY! How could you do this! How could you, daddy I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! And where will we live! I shall be disgraced, and I'll never find a wealthy husband! How do you expect me to show myself in society again after this! You will tell me next we will have no servants at all!

Adams can hear her sobbing and stamping her foot, the Earl's voice surprisingly quiet and muffled, but suddenly there is a smash, followed by another, and the Earl shouting at her to calm down and stop breaking the china as they'll need all the money they can get from those kind of items. Adams wonders whether to go in when the Earl calls out for him in a rather distressed tone, so he flings the door open only to find a large painted vase heading straight towards him. Instinctively he ducks to avoid it, but it catches him in the stomach and he goes flying backwards, the still intact vase in his grasp, landing hard on the floor completely winded. Lady Caroline, without any apology, huffs loudly, tears streaming down her cheeks, and flounces out of the bedroom without even a second glance at the temporary footman's position on the floor

Lady C: I never want to see you again, daddy! Grandmama and I will be destitute – I will be destitute, and it is all your fault! 

The Earl, distraught, fails to answer his daughter, but instead sits on his four-poster with his head in his hands. He looks over at Adams who is scrambling to his feet, but then his gaze falls onto the Persian rug which he knows he will have to give up

Earl quietly but angrily: Get Mr Forest to bring me whiskey, and I don't just mean a glass of it. I want a fresh bottle. And tell chef I will dine alone tonight, in here. In fact I don't intend to come out for some days. When Jarvis returns, I need to see him urgently. And send for the doctor for Mrs Ryan, I can't afford to have sick staff at the moment.

He can't even afford to HAVE staff at the moment, Adams concludes. But he knows that the Earl doesn't even consider the gossip William Forest is almost certainly spreading around the servants quarters at that very moment. Staff morale had hardly ever been His Lordship's priority, and it certainly wasn't now.

Adams nodding and backing out of the room, once he has replaced the vase: Very good, sir. I will have him come up to you straight away.

The Earl doesn't respond as Adams closes the door in front of him. Sighing, he turns on his heels. All thoughts of Rebecca Farquharson have gone completely out of his head for the time being. Now, it seems, there is a lot more at stake than the love of his life coming to visit. She may not even have a house TO visit by October. With a heavy heart, Adams turns and marches off down the corridor in search of firstly Will then his daughter. He has unfinished business with her.  
Fortunately for Adams, his first task was over pretty swiftly as he knew just where to find Will, who was meant to be unloading the Earl's possessions with the help of George. But on entering the courtyard, from what Adams could see, the two of them were simply gossiping idly, about the latest hot topic, which Will had been greatly privy to during his stay in London with the Earl. Not used to having quite so much information, Will looked forward to telling as many people as possible, showing them just how much know-how an under-butler had, starting with his old faithful, George.

On seeing Adams, who was just about to make a comment about them disregarding their duties (as old habits tended to dye hard with him), Will chipped in first, asserting his authority. Once he had spouted on, much ado about nothing, for a few moments, Adams deciding he'd had enough and before the Earl could emerge from his room in a cold sweat, missing his heavy dose of whiskey, the footman informed Will that he was required upstairs. Unable to ignore this direction from Adams, Will dropped the first trunk he had unloaded in 10 minutes onto the cobbles and trotted off to attend to his master.

Reluctantly, Adams stayed with George for a few minutes, helping the second footman to remove a rather large and awkwardly shaped trunk from the carriage. However, as George was just about to attempt to strike up a conversation, on returning to his full height, after crouching down too free a tassel that had become entangled in on of the horse's reigns, he saw that he was alone in the yard, just catching the back of Adams as he entered the scullery door. 'Typical' he thought to himself, even with his demotion, Andrew Adams still managed to avoid most forms of hardwork.

On entering the dining room, where he assumed Lizzie would still have been, he was informed by Fred in a rather matter of fact manner, that the maid had been summoned by Mr Kraus, who had ventured out from wherever he had been hiding to ask that she take Mrs Ryan a bowl of luke warm water, with which the housekeeper intended to wash her face. There was no word of gratitude from Adams towards Fred for relaying the information, instead the Scotsman left the room without a word. However, this discourtesy didn't really bother Fred, indeed, he was beginning to expect nothing more from the man, and so simply continued to fill Joe in on the happenings of the day (as this had been Joe's first day off in nearly a fortnight.)

As it was the chef's duty not to let the Earl and his family go hungry that evening, and as he still did not completely trust Adams to watch over the invalid with due care, Mr Kraus had left Lizzie to sit at Flora's bedside for the time being. Although Mrs Ryan had repeatedly insisted that she would be quite alright in his absence, he still felt that she needed a companion, partly out of worry that she may do something silly again, despite her having totally denounced her behaviour that morning. It was for this reason that Adams did not catch up with her before the evening meal, which Lizzie had taken in the housekeeper's room, having successfully convinced her patient to do the same.

After dinner, Adams watched Kraus like a hawk, hanging on his every move, waiting for him to go and relieve Lizzie. However, this took longer than he had anticipated, forcing him to 'lower' himself quite unprecedently, as he volunteered to help with the washing up, in order not to let the Prussian out of his sight. Shortly after 8 o'clock, he saw his chance, as Kraus had just made a pitiful excuse (that he was going to practice his ice sculpting), informing those present not to expect seeing him before the morning.

After waiting a few moments, Adams seized his opportunity, leaving the kitchen, and arriving in the Upper Servants corridor just as Lizzie was closing Mrs Ryan's door behind her. When Lizzie spotted him, the breath caught in her chest, which she struggled to hide, in fear of him noticing. She knew she couldn't escape either the corridor or the impending conversation, so took a deep breath and walked towards her father. It didn't start off as badly as she had predicted as he began by asking after Mrs Ryan, though she knew this was only out of politeness. Lizzie informed him that the lady in question was feeling much better and had now almost fully taken responsibility for her actions, forgetting the accusations she had made towards him when she awakened from her blackout. He was glad to hear this, shown in his facial expression, which put his daughter at ease a little, until the pleasantries subsided and the second query on his agenda came to the forefront.

"Lizzie, that man you found earlier…" he started

Lizzie, wanting to get the fact that she had never seen him before in her life made clear, cut in "I have no idea where he came from, I was in the laundry, cleaning the towel like you told me to and I just heard this crash, I went out to see what had happened, and I just found him there, a complete stranger, Id never-"

By now having argued her case without pause, and becoming more irate as she went on, Adams decided to step in, as she wasn't making much sense.  
"Id hope you hadn't met him before lassy! But someone around here obviously has!" he announced.

At this Lizzie was convinced that he knew everything, well, almost everything, people, even drunken people didn't usually go around telling others they were murderers, and even if they did, they generally wouldn't be believed. Having gone off on somewhat of a tangent, she dragged herself back to her more immediate concern. Deciding to play dumb until it was clear he knew otherwise, Lizzie answered with a question "What do you mean?"

"Well, from what I could gather, he was muttering something about knowing, or used to knowing someone who worked here…"

'Thank god' Lizzie thought, 'he doesn't know that its Will.  
"… said something about a son." he continued, though in a clear state of conclusion.  
'This was it' the monologue continuing in Lizzie's mind 'he wont be able to resist hunting out the son now he's seen the father'

But after less than a second of contemplation, he corrected himself "sorry, by all accounts the son USED to work here" (Lizzie breathed a sign of relief at this before tensing up once more at a further question) "You got any ideas who he means?"  
She gave him an unknowing look, shaking her head.  
"He didn't sound local, but if he came from the village, so I spose he must be. But none of the lads (meaning the staff) are local boys are they?"

Lizzie enthusiastically informed him that they weren't, unless he classed Fred's South Wales mining town as local, which he didn't. Adding to which, by a stroke of luck, she remembered Grace talking about Frank (her ex-fiancé), who was indeed a boy from the village. "I think that Frank character was from Tappleton by all accounts, he used to trespass on the Earl's land when he was younger, until his lordship told him to go and find something constructive to do, which he did, for a time at least"

"But why would his dad come looking for him here?" Adams puzzled.

After a few seconds hesitation, Lizzie came back with "Well, you said it yourself, Bill (realising she may have been a little over familiar there).. Or, or whatever his name was, said that his son USED to work here."

Rubbing his forehead with his hand he replied "So I did, well that's that then, stupid old fool eh?"

For a moment she considered asking him whether he meant HE was the stupid fool, but she left it as it was, just relieved to have settled him on the Frank idea. Before he could start to doubt that, she yawned exaggeratedly, commenting that it been a long day. He agreed with her on that, and soon after the two parted, each feeling content.  
end scene

As the next morning dawned, Lizzie lay awake in her bed. Lifting her head ever-so-slightly off her pillow, she looked around the maid's room. Grace, opposite her was sleeping soundly, a sight which raised a smile on her friends face. She glanced down to the other two, Susan was turned over, facing the wall, her bed lining dishevelled as she always managed to get it, and Charlotte was resting on her side also, though facing Lizzie, who could see that her hands were clasped as if still in prayer.

Her eyes turned to fix upon the ceiling above, which was just visible, partly due to the poor natural light at such an hour, and partly due to the huge canopy of spiders webs forged after many months of simply being left there. When she first arrived at Taplows, it had frightened, well, bothered her that there must be a whole host of insects living in the network, but as little was done about it, and as she hadn't (yet) encountered one face to face, her agitation had subsided.

She couldn't stall her thoughts any longer, she was furious with Will for leaving her to deal with the unexpected return of his murderous father. Just what did he think she was going to do if his father found his way there, and make a scene that people may actually have believed! What would they do if he tried again, turned up when neither of them were around - just what were they to do?

After a few moments of wracking her own brains as to a solution, she concluded that Will had to be told, be told immediately, that his father was likely to show up at any moment. Telling him right that minute was fortunately possible, as with the Earl drinking in excess once again the previous evening, Will had been obliged to stay in the vicinity of his lordships chamber, incase he required urgent attention.

Without hesitation, she threw back her bed covers, donned her extra night gown, and tip-toed toward the door. Silently, she opened it, looking both ways up and down the corridor before emerging into it. She crept through the hallways thoroughly on edge as she had been told the last time anyone had been discovered late at night, Mrs Ryan had instigated a witch hunt, in order to seek them out. However unsuccessful the housekeeper's attempts had been, Lizzie moved as quickly as she could, through the servants dwellings and emerged into the main house, just off the reception area.

Again, she clung to the door, checking no one was doing the rounds, before scurrying off up the central staircase, up to the family residence rooms, where she found Will, dozing on a rather posh chair outside the Earl's door.

Resisting the urge to throttle him awake, Lizzie simply whispered quietly, but forcefully "Will!" However, when it became apparent this wasn't going to be enough, she tried again, this time poking him, quite hard on his left shoulder. This strategy had the desired affect, with a rather loud "Ow!" coming from Will in response. At this, Lizzie let out a commanding "shhhhhh!"

When his eyes focused, he grabbed his upper arm, massaging it intensely. "What was that for Liz!" he sneered in a lower tone of voice.

"Thats nothing compared with what I should've done to you!" she declared  
Will, quite bemused as to what she was on about, just looked at her as though she had two heads, which only served to irritate her further.  
"Your father …!" she reminded him

"What, he's here!" Will gasped, leaping out of his chair, looking up and down the passageway.

"No, but he was yesterday!"

"When, how, why…?" he struggled to grasp the situation. "Did he just waltz in here?"

"Stagger in here more like, Mr Adams had to almost carry him off the premises."

"ADAMS!" Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Well that just great, of all people to find ou-"

"He doesn't know, though he very nearly did!"

Failing to hear this, Will carried on "Well if he knows, that's just about it for me really isn't it! And I suppose everyone knows now, Im probably only still here because we're short staffed till Jarvis gets back later!" His rant was now wearing thin with Lizzie who fought to get a word in edgeways.

"No, no one else knows. It was me who found him yesterday, he'd wandered in his drunken state up here and just collapsed in the courtyard." She went on to explain how he had mentioned having a son at Taplows, but not revealing the name, and that she had managed to convince her father, when he turned up to aide her, that his son must have been Frank.

Will took some comfort from these words, as all was not lost. However, when she could see he'd calmed down, she demanded to know what the he thought they were going to do if he found his way back following another binge.  
"I don't know Liz" he sighed utterly dejected. "I never asked for this, any of this to happen"

His words somewhat melting her icy tone, she conceded "I know you didn't, but it has, and we need to do something before it gets out of hand."

"Well, if he was as drunk as you say he was, surely he wouldn't be able to find his way back!" he hoped.

"Well, he managed to find his way the first time." Lizzie was not so hopeful on that eventuality.

"We're just going to have to keep a look out then!"

"What, the two of us mark every entrance and exit to the entire house?"

I little dejected at her criticism of his efforts, Will pledged "No matter what happens, that man is not going to ruin my life again!"

Lizzie didn't know what to say to this, though wished it would come true. The pair just stood there, before being interrupted by a stern cough.  
"Quite the ladies man aren't we Mr Forrest!" mused Lady Caroline, who was stood in her doorway.

At this, Lizzie turned on her heels and scurried back down to her own room, leaving Will to face Lady C's wrath. But instead of making a scene, the Earl's little princess, simply strode passed Will, holding a little lamp. on her way towards the library.

A few hours later and a carriage could be seen breaking through the early autumnal mists that shrouded the parklands around Taplows. Jarvis leant out the window desperate for his first glimpse of the house, he had only been absent for a few days but to him it seemed like forever. Sighing deeply he rubbed his chilled hands together, summer was well and truly over and autumn was here, with winter approaching hard upon its heels. For what seemed the hundredth time that morning his thoughts returned to Flora and their child, with any luck these few days apart would have given her time to place his hurtful comments in perspective and dismiss them as a natural reaction to the shock and extenuating circumstances.

He smiled softly to himself these few days at home had made the idea of his own family more real. It was also a great comfort to him that he had been able to tell his father before he died that the family name would live on, that he was finally going to be a father. This had pleased the old man and so they were finally able to have the family reunion his mother had always hoped for in the few hours between his arrival and his father's passing, he had even altered his will to include his expected grandchild. Jarvis frowned he wished he could have spent more time comforting his mother, but she had been adamant about him returning to Taplows the day after the funeral. The sooner he left the sooner he could return, she said, but only on the condition he brought her 'new daughter' as she kept referring to Flora to Eastbourne soon. If this was to be her only grandchild then she wanted to be around to watch him or her grow up, and so Jarvis had dutifully organised a quick departure and following his mother's instructions to the letter they had driven over night.

He had only paused for half an hour in Bristol, but for such a break he was sure his mother would forgive him, fumbling around in his coat pocket he brought out the small jewellery box, and once more opened it to reassure himself that this ring had remained in it's box. The small but perfect sapphire caught the light and sparkled, just like her eyes when she laughed he thought, he had brought it on impulse having previously decided to go for something simple. However he had caught sight of it in the jewellers sparkling in the sunlight and before he knew it had spent a much larger proportion of his inheritance than he had previously planned. However he knew instinctively that this was the right ring, there is no way she would say no to him with this.

Finally the carriage pulled up into the servants courtyard, and Johnny ran out of the kitchen to open the door for Mr Jarvis, "Good Morning Mr Jarvis!"

"Morning, where's Mrs Ryan?"

Johnny was just about to open his mouth to answer, when Jarvis butted in "In her office I suppose!" He answered his own question and stormed past the astounded Johnny without giving him a second glance.

However Jarvis was in luck, as Flora had been feeling much better that morning and Felix had allowed her to return to light duties, which meant nothing more strenuous than the household accounts providing she remained sitting down in her office. It was thus pouring over the figures for the last few days, trying to interpret the different squiggles Felix used instead of any recognisable language that Jarvis found her.

He stood for a moment by the open door, content to simply watch her work, her brow furrowing whenever she encountered a problem, and the quirk of a smile every time she solved it. "Mrs Ryan!" He called to her softly, but still she jumped as if startled.

"Mr Jarvis!" She began rising from her chair, knocking her papers off her desk, distress obvious on her face, "You're back!"

"So it would appear!" Jarvis countered, amused by her need to state the obvious.

"But it's so soon, we weren't expecting you back for a few more days, I haven't had time to….."

Jarvis bowed his head slightly, "Well my father had very little time left indeed, but we were able to make peace before he died and then I stayed only until after the funeral, I felt I had more pressing business here!" He glanced up at Flora hoping to catch her eye and so gage her reaction to this news.

However Flora had turned from him and was staring out the window, "You heard about the Earl's troubles even in Eastbourne? He will not be pleased!"

Jarvis opened his mouth preparing to refute her assumption and reassure her it was not the Earl that drew him back so quickly. However the door opened and Will poked his head round, grinning with desperate relief when he saw Jarvis. "Mr Jarvis thank the lord you're back the Earl is asking for you, something about his dwindling supplies of whiskey?"

Jarvis nodded in Will's direction but kept his gaze firmly locked on Flora's back, "Alright Mr Forest I will be there directly." Then waiting until Will had left and shut the door behind him he walked towards Flora, stopping a few feet away from her, "Flora we need to talk, but now is certainly not the time! Meet me in my room in an hour?" He asked reaching out a hand towards her but then drawing it back when he heard the insistent ringing of the Earls study bell. "Later?" He asked backing away from her to the door. Flora wrapped her arms further around herself before nodding, and taking that as her consenting Jarvis turned and dashed off to see the Earl.

An hour later and Jarvis paced his room, as if he didn't have enough on his mind with Flora and the baby, and the impending crisis, now he had to add detective to his list of duties! He harrumphed to himself, as if he needed any skill to find the culprit of stealing his lordships whiskey, it had to Mr Adams although frankly he was surprised his former under butler had been conducting himself properly for the first time in months. Sighing to himself he glanced once more at his watch, she was late probably doing it on purpose to make him suffer and try his nerves. For once she was correct his nerves were frayed, in a few minutes he was about to change his life for ever, his life in service would be over and his new life, no their new life could begin as a proper family. Quickly he walked over to his desk and unlocking his drawer drew out a bottle of brandy and grasping his water glass poured himself a large measure, settling in his easy chair to wait.

A few minutes later and there was a brisk knocking on his door, standing slowly he walked over and opened it wide ushering her into the room and indicating she should sit down as he returned to his easy chair. For a moment she paused unsure of how to react, then she remembered her reason for visiting and handed him a letter before taking the proffered seat. Jarvis took the letter without question and flipped it over, it was addressed to the Earl, Jarvis looked up shock and horror clear on his face.

"You'll find it is all there Mr Jarvis!" Flora replied her, tone all clipped and professional. "I had planned to have left as per your request, before your return, however such arrangements take time and there is no available crossing until late next week!"

Jarvis sat wide eyed, his confusion clear on his face, "What are you talking about, what crossing?"

Flora raised an eyebrow a malicious smile tugged at her mouth, a part of her was enjoying this, making him squirm like a worm on a hook, just like he had to her a few days before. "The crossing to Prussia, I thought Felix had explained all this to you, you see he's asked me to marry him and I have accepted!"

"Come again?" Jarvis spat, almost choking on his sip of brandy.

"Oh, I think you heard me the first time" she said with some degree of confidence, having fully expected this.

Quite worryingly for Flora, Jarvis began to laugh, uncontrollably at this. As she wasn't sure he'd taken her seriously, she reiterated her statement.

Indeed, Jarvis had heard her loud and clear, the only problem he had was in comprehending this revelation, which, to her amazement he still seemed to find humorous, until the notion firmly settled in. "You're not serious, surely" he scoffed with a short sharp blast of air through his nose, a strained smile on his face.

"Walter, I'm quite sincere. I-"

He cut her dead "WALTER, how can you call me that and after you drop that on me?"

"You think I have a choice!" she cried

"Of course you have a choice, you can stay here with me!"

"Stay here! Could you be anymore dense!"

Ignoring that insult, he continued "Well, you're not going! I won't let you! Especially not to Prussia!" he bellowed, attempting to lay down the law.

"Would you sooner have me go to the poor house then? Have my child taken away from me? You MUST know that is what would happen if I was to be discovered. Don't you have any consideration for my dignity?"

"Your dignity! What about mine-"

"You resigned all rights to any shred of dignity when you told me to leave this place. How could you do that, how could you think this child was anyone else's!"

"I didn't know that then, I do now!" (pleading as though his life depended on it, which in a sense it did)

Shaking her head Flora continued "It's too late for that Walter, you should have known then, you should never have questioned" She said this with such conviction that Jarvis was taken aback, he'd expect her to be in tears by now, but she was holding it together (by no more than a thread, though she wouldn't have him see that.)

"But please, you can see how it looked surely" trying to reason with her.

"To one wearing green tinted spectacles yes! But to one who had some trust, some faith in our relationship, you would have seen that Felix and I are no more than friends"

Unable to hide his frustration at the chef's name: "Well that certainly isn't true now is it? You can't seriously think this charade will work out do you? Not when you're still in love with someone else, you're still in love with ME?" he questioned desperately.

After a brief hesitation she conceded, unable to utter the alternative "You know I do, and that I'll never truly stop. But that's not just not enough" she said quickly before she could stop herself, but shaking her head disagreeing, gulping hard.

"HOW can it not be enough!" Jarvis was now distraught

"Surely you can see that we can hardly make things work with just the two of us, imagine how destructive it would be for a child!"

"Don't you DARE bring our child into this, as an excuse! The child WILL have all the love it could desire, and we could make it work, that's if you wanted to … which … I'm not sure you do" his words slowed as the sudden realisation come over him, looking at her, head tilted sideways, as if it was weighing him down.

"OUR child now is it! You think I'm using our child as an excuse! This is not about what you and I want any longer Walter, it is what's best for them!"

"Don't you think what's best for them is to have both their parents around?" he hissed.

"They will have a father! A father who has always wanted them, who can provide for them, love them and upon whom I can utterly rely"

"FELIX KRAUS! Oh what a FINE father he will make, if they need to know how to make crème anglais, or any other delicate cuisine, he's their man! But if they want to know who they really are, then how will they ever discover that? Don't you think I would love them?" he cried, his desperation to make her see sense increasing.

Astonished that he did actually have a valid point, Flora felt a little unsure for a second, but quickly brought herself back around. She couldn't let him talk her round, she had made her mind up, it was for the greater good, no matter how loudly her heart was screaming otherwise. "Well, you said you loved me, on occasion." she reminded him quietly, but accusingly.

Aghast at her naivety "Flora, I still do - do you have ANY idea how much!"

"Well you have a damned funny way of showing it" she sighed "IF that's true of course" she added quickly, allowing him no room to jump in.

At this final comment, he resigned himself to that fact that, if she had convinced herself otherwise, there was little he could do to change her mind, he'd tried almost everything his pride would allow. He slumped into a nearby chair, holding his head in his hands, now in a complete state of anguish. When his eyes were shielded from hers, Flora snuck a glance at the broken man before her, her heart sunk to its lowest depths, and her conscience began to get the better of her. She was about follow her instincts, start to walk towards him, take him in her arms and have the pair of them forget all the negativity that had gone before, and just be together, the way she had dreamed it for so long.

But, as she did so, Jarvis, concluding that if indeed she was going to do this to him, he wasn't going to hold back. "Fine, GO! You and your SHAM of a marriage have my blessing. I'll be glad to be rid of you, the pair, oh sorry (indicating to Flora's abdomen), the three of you !"

"But, you just said…!"

"Men say a lot of things my dear, they're just three … little … words" (he paused, hardly believing what he was spouting, denouncing his words almost as immediately as he had said them)

Flora's eyes widened, her jaw dropping, a dreadful feeling of sickness, far worse than any bout of morning sickness came over her, rolling both her eyes and head back, slipping into silent hysteria.

Jarvis, unable to stop now he was on a roll continued "When did you say the boat sails the North Sea?"

Flora murmured something inaudibly, failing to muster the strength, or spirit to answer in a coherent way.

"Hmm? After your party no doubt, oh what a joyous occasion that will be!" he mused venomously.

The housekeeper had no idea how to react to this, she simply stared into space, unable to face reality. Jarvis, exasperated at her silence, strode over, taking her by the shoulders, shaking her vigorously, though even this fail to stir her. He stepped back, he'd never seen her like this before, he felt the greatest pang of guilt he'd ever experienced - just what had he done to her? Maybe this was what she meant when she said things never went right between them, and for once he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all his own fault, which he loathed himself for.

For a few moments he just stood above her, his eyes fixed upon her vacant face, willing her to say something, anything, however it was sometime before she did. "So, if that is all Mr Jarvis" she stuttered, looking at him, the familiar tears finally welling in her eyes, a single drop rolling down her left cheek.

'That it!' he thought to himself. Was this really it? Was this how it was all going to end, the love of his life fleeing to raise his child in a foreign land with a man he had almost considered a brother? Before his heart escaped his chest, finally having drummed up the sense to put a stop to this insanity once and for all, he held his right index finger out to catch the tear, but on looking down to her, his gaze was met only by an empty chair.

At this, he practically flew across the room, throwing open the door, looking both ways, up and down the corridor. He spied her, calmly walking down towards her room, almost floating. He fondly remembered a time when he would have followed her, and almost did so, shuffling a few feet forward before something inexplicable stopped him. Instead, he resolved to have a rather extra large brandy, but on closing the door gently, he slid down the back of it, slumping onto the cold hard floor.

Almost synonymously, Flora had found herself on the floor at the end of the corridor. After hearing Walter's door close, she had lost what little control she'd retained over her limbs, first staggering, before sinking to the ground. Each now held theirs heads in their hands, looking up, as if to the heaven's both asking what had they done to deserve this, why the stars were seemingly against them, on all levels.

Next scene  
Ten minutes later, Jarvis looks up from staring at his knees, his expression having changed to one of furious rage rather than sadness and self-pity. Scrambling quickly to his feet, he straightens his jacket and waistcoat, then flings open the door and flies down the corridor. He is met briefly by Will, who tries to grab his attention  
Will looking slightly bemused: Mr Jarvis, the Earl wants to see you again, he says it's very important…………..

But Jarvis hardly notices Will's presence let alone hears him – if he does then he conceals it extremely well. He continues down the corridor, completely ignoring him, teeth gritted and face like thunder, leaving the under-butler standing and staring silently after him in utter shock at the butler's unprofessional attitude. Not that Jarvis cares in the slightest at the moment. He doesn't stop until he reaches the kitchens, failing to acknowledge the 'welcome back' greetings from the lower staff as they bustle around him. Storming in, he briefly surveys the scene. The kitchen staff are noisily beginning to prepare the evening meal; pots are bubbling away, elaborate jellies are being moulded in the shape of fruit and baskets of flowers, ham and pork is being roasted. The heat pumping out from the kitchen is enormous, taking Jarvis aback slightly, but he is in no mood to come back later. He huffs, dissatisfied. He is only interested in hunting down one person, but as yet he can't see him  
Jarvis to all: Where is Mr Kraus!

Lizzie glancing up from chopping cabbage: He's in the Pastry, sir  
Just then Kraus appears, flour on his apron and a hand-full of dried fruits in his grasp

Jarvis striding into the kitchen and booming: Alright, everybody out!   
The maids all stop and turn to stare at the butler. It slowly dawns on them that he is being totally serious – ordering them out just as meal preparations are in full swing. Nobody makes the first move – they just exchanged worried glances. Mr Jarvis seems in absolutely no mood to be messed with, and they are genuinely scared  
Jarvis exasperated: I SAID – everybody OUT! NOW!

Kraus stepping forward, his hair falling across his forehead: Mr Jarvis, we are very busy here, can you not see……….?

Jarvis looking at the chef but still shouting out his order to the maids: Out now, or I'll dock all your wages! Mr Kraus, you will stay in here!

Hurriedly, the maids drop what they are doing and file out as quickly as possible, chattering quietly. Once they have all gone, Jarvis kicks the door shut violently behind them. Kraus puts down his fruit and marches up to Jarvis, fury on his face  
Kraus: How dare you order out MY staff, in MY kitchen! I do not order around YOUR footmen, Mr Jarvis, I do not come into YOUR quarters and humiliate YOU!

Jarvis his expression full of hatred and contempt, he steps as close to Kraus as he can get, his voice beginning dangerously low but getting louder: Humiliation, Mr Kraus. I do not think you know the meaning of the word. And yes I do dare to come in here, and I do dare to order your maids to leave! I should say how dare YOU, Mr Kraus!

Kraus half a mind concerned about the pots bubbling furiously and the sagging jellies on the table: If this is about Flora…..

Jarvis thumping the worktop and causing an exquisite jelly to flop over completely in the rising temperature of the room: Too damn right it's about her! What the hell have you filled her head with now! Going with you to Prussia – with YOU of all people, my God you must think I was born yesterday! 

Kraus pleading and trying to keep his cool: Walter, I can explain……..

Jarvis not wishing to listen to a word the chef has to say: Coming over here with your fancy foreign ways, you're all the same you lot! I saw it in Italy, how you European men are – full of yourselves and your fancy clothes, thinking you can have any woman you want and spreading around your 'seed' or whatever filthy word the likes of you probably use!

Kraus becoming red, his fists clenching wildly as Jarvis still refuses to hear him out: Now, I think you should stop there, you are not being fair…….!

Jarvis kicking a chair over, causing Kraus to flinch slightly and step back: Fair! How do YOU know what's fair! Is it FAIR that you should take away my child, is it FAIR you should get to marry the woman of my dreams, is it FAIR – Mr Kraus – that I should be expected to stay a celibate bachelor for my entire life, being denied what is every man's right, surely - to have a loving family! And my only chance to get this is robbed from me by a foreign upstart like you, it may be done in Prussia, but stealing a man's woman and child is most certainly NOT done in this country!

Kraus barking in Jarvis' face to try to shut him up: If you have quite finished, Mr Jarvis!  
By now the pans are bubbling over, hot water spilling onto the floor. Kraus dashes over, lifting the pans away from the heat, but his baked Alaska is now totally ruined. Thank heavens, he thinks fleetingly, for the Pastry where at least the cherry pies were safe

Jarvis not caring if every morsel in the entire kitchen burnt to a crisp: I have not finished! Why is it you want to do this to me! Tell me, you Prussian idiot!

Kraus thumps a pan down hard then swings round to the butler, who is pacing up and down, sweat pouring down his face as the heat intensifies further because the windows and the door are all shut.  
Kraus hands on hips: It is not all about you, Walter! It's about Flora and the child and the sort of future they deserve!

Jarvis: With YOU!

Kraus: Yes, with me! Foreign, eccentric me!

Jarvis: You have taken advantage of a vulnerable, fragile woman…….

Kraus Finally loosing his well-controlled temper, throwing his arms around: And why the hell do you think that she is so fragile! Who made her that way, it certainly wasn't me! Do you have any idea what went on while you were away!

For the first time, Jarvis looks a little sheepish and lost for words  
Kraus: You left and she was inconsolable, Walter! She….she took pills. Lots of them. Pills I had given her to help her sleep. She got whiskey from Adams' room and drank so much of it and took so many damn tablets – she tried to kill herself!

Jarvis, stunned, has to steady himself on the table. He looks down, breathing heavily, then back up at Kraus who has shocked himself at the callous way he has told Jarvis about Flora  
Jarvis his voice shaking: I…..thought……I……told………you……to…….look…..after……her

Kraus his eyes widening. Why couldn't Jarvis accept his responsibility: I did look after her, but I can't watch her every move! I can't keep her locked up in a cupboard, although I'm sure you'd have wanted me to!

Jarvis obviously deeply upset, but maintaining a strong stiff upper lip as he had been trained to do: Well, I think it just proves my point – that you are incapable of looking after her and being the sort of husband she needs! And what sort of person gives a pregnant woman pills anyway! Is that another bloody foreign stupidity of yours…….!

Kraus lowering his voice in warning: Get out of my kitchen!

Jarvis sizing Kraus up, not budging an inch: Make me.   
But before Jarvis can even register Kraus' fist heading straight towards his face, he falls back, grabbing a chair on the way down. Startled, he blinks as he sits on the cold stone floor, until the pain hits him and his lip begins to become very hot and bleed. He looks up at Kraus, panting, who far from backing off is standing over him, a look of defiance on his face

Jarvis coming to his senses and touching his sore lip: Oh, like that is it! You want to take it outside, finish it man to man!

Kraus nodding emphatically: Yes, I think we should! Maybe I can knock some sense into that English head of yours!

Jarvis pulls himself up, storming over to the door and throwing it open to reveal a group of maids – and footmen – listening up against it. Quickly they back off, but he doesn't speak to them, just walks past them, followed by a seething chef. They all gasp, noticing Jarvis' injury, but say nothing as the two men head off outside towards the courtyard. Only Will has the instinctive idea to fetch Mrs Ryan – surely she could sort this out?

Jarvis: Right! We'll do it here!

Kraus nods, frowning, as they stand face to face. Neither notice that the rain is pouring out of the sky as Kraus pulls his hat off his head, throwing it to the wet ground. Jarvis roughly shakes off his jacket, dropping it into a large puddle, then strips off his waistcoat and shirt. The two men are already drenched through. Jarvis wipes his hands on his face as Kraus pushes back his soaking hair, then they size each other up. A clutch of maids have appeared in the doorway, peering out not wanting to miss the action. The carrots could boil to cinders for all they care. This was the fight of the year, forget Kraus and Adams! Jarvis, his anger getting the better of him immediately, takes the first swing, catching Kraus right on the side of the cheek and knocking his head sideways. Unperturbed, the chef comes back at him with a hard thump in the stomach, winding Jarvis completely and making him gasp for air, but soon he has forced Kraus onto the soaking cobbles, punching him on the chin repeatedly until he is dizzy and dazed. It was only then that Jarvis sees Flora standing only yards away from them, in the rain, a look of shock and disgust on her face. Taking his gaze away from her, he looks back at Kraus but that momentary lapse in his concentration meant that Kraus could push him off and roll him over, kneeing him in the groin  
Flora crying out: Stop! Both of you, stop! You're hurting each other!

Kraus drags himself off the butler, standing back, his wet clothes pulled and his face red with anger. Jarvis stands, his vest pulled out from his trousers, which are sticking to his legs and covered in dirt  
Kraus: Shall we call it quits, then, Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis lunging at him again and shoving him against the wall, thumping him in the stomach: No such luck, I'm afraid!  
Kraus pushes him off, flinging him against the water trough, but Jarvis quickly scrambles to his feet, landing one final punch on Kraus' nose. Staggering back, finally succumbing to the beating, the chef falls to the floor, out cold. Flora, desperate, dashes forward and falls next to Kraus. She looks up at Jarvis, who is staring down at his colleague with complete distain on his face

Flora: How could you! What have you done! Are you never finished hurting people! I just hope that we do not receive the same treatment once we arrive in Prussia…………!  
She gasps, then glances over at the large crowd of servants who have assembled in the courtyard. They all stare at her in shock and surprise. Prussia? Mrs Ryan is leaving?  
Flora to Jarvis, tears falling down her already drenched cheeks: Get away from me! Do you really feel nothing for me at all!

Jarvis hanging his head: Flora, I……  
But he doesn't finish. Instead, he turns, his head hanging, and pushes through the crowd, leaving Flora cradling Kraus in her arms as he slowly begins to come round   
end scene

Next morning. Breakfast time in the upper servants dining room. Well, it would have been breakfast time if indeed breakfast had been provided on time and all the servants had bothered to turn up. Mrs Ryan and Mrs Diggins are sat quietly at the table, staring down at their empty plates, the clock ticking loudly in the background. In the end the silence becomes too unbearable for both women

Mrs D huffing: Well, this is completely unacceptable! Twice this has happened now, Mrs Ryan, TWICE! 

Flora extremely quietly: Yes, Mrs Diggins, I know.

Mrs D apparently not hearing: And to think what went on yesterday! Utterly disgraceful! I don't know what it was about, but fighting like two schoolboys indeed! I should go straight to the Earl with this...

Flora suddenly rises from the table, causing Mrs D to jump. She doesn't look at her colleague, just pulls away from her place and moves swiftly towards the door

Flora: Yes, well you just do that, Mrs Diggins! Whatever you feel you need to do! I'm past caring any more, I really am!

With that, she flings open the door and walks out, leaving Mrs Diggins sat open-mouthed at her outburst

The Earl's bedroom. Jarvis has been summoned by the Earl, who is even more furious now as his butler had completely forgotten to see him the previous afternoon, despite repeated desperate attempts from Will to get him to go. The Earl is sat at his writing desk, but instead of paper and a quill on its surface sat two empty bottles of whiskey and half a bottle of brandy. His glaring stare is fixed on Jarvis, who is trying his level best to hide a throbbing hang over and numerous bruises on his cheeks. He is barely able to stand properly, every bit of him aching. Oh, how he longs for Flora's bedside manner so soothe him, but he knows that this is the very last thing on her mind. The Earl is barking at him about his lack of professionalism - he doesn't know the half of it, Jarvis thinks, almost with cheeky amusement.

Earl red in the face, although Jarvis can't decide if its from excessive drinking or his anger: I will not stand for it Jarvis, do you hear me!

Jarvis: Yes, sir.

Earl: You will TURN UP when I require it, I don't care what you are doing!

Jarvis: Indeed sir, sorry sir.

Earl: Well!

Jarvis: Well, sir?

Earl sighing: What were you doing, man!

Jarvis thinking that the Earl had just said that he didn't care about that: I was, er, consulting with chef, M'Lord. On the winter hamper, and the Christmas food stock arrangements. And the alcohol storage for the festive season. Sir.

This seemed to placate the Earl a little. Jarvis knows the mention of alcohol stocks is something the Earl could sympathise greatly with, but then his employer's expression changes to one of deep concern, which causes Jarvis' heart to leap into his throat

Earl turning back to his desk, unable to look at Jarvis: I'm afraid...my trip to London. It wasn't fruitful. The bank - it won't help. He took it all, Jarvis. All of it. I'm bankrupt. Officially. The bailiffs will be in soon. I'm trying my best to hold onto Taplows itself, but the contents will have to be auctioned. I think, though, without over half of the servants this place will be unable to function...

With those words, Jarvis knows exactly what is going to happen. His worst fears are confirmed. In his roundabout way, the Earl is telling his butler to go off and make redundant scores of servants, and this made him sick to his stomach. Of course he always knew that it is one of the more unsavoury aspects of being butler, but he always hoped that he would never have to actually carry it out

Earl: As I'm sure you are aware, Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus are leaving. I am loathed to look for a replacement as yet, once Kraus has gone you will have to promote up a senior cook. I can't afford to pay these fancy wages any longer. If you wish to stay working for me you will have to have a large salary cut, probably as much as £40 - let me know your decision in due course. And I want to know of the redundancies as soon as you make them, preferably within the next week. The reserve redundancy money will unfortunately have to be kept, but I am sure most with good characters will find suitable employment elsewhere quickly. Dismissed.

Jarvis, surprised at the Earl's sudden end to the rather one-sided and cold conversation, hesitates for a moment, then with a nod slowly (and painfully) exits the bedroom and makes his way back to the office. Walking through the servants quarters, he barely notices that the gossiping subsides when the staff see him, that Kraus is yelling at some poor - and probably redundant - kitchen maid for not whipping the eggs correctly, and that Mrs Ryan is stood in his office in the corner. He slams the door shut behind him, then sees her standing by the window, her arms crossed and her expression sour

Jarvis sharply, ignoring her gaze: I don't want to hear it. I just don't. Leave me.

Flora walking forward: Mr Jarvis I...

Jarvis walking over to the door and grabbing the handle: I don't want you in here. I've just seen the Earl, and I'm going to have to decide - without your help, as you're running away - who I am going to have to sack! See, there are even more important things in the world than you and Mr Kraus, if you can believe it! He pulls open the door and indicates to her to depart as her stern expression softens to one of shock and worry So if you'll excuse me, Mrs Ryan, I've got some more lives to ruin, and I'm sure poor Felix is desperate for you to go and soothe his pains.

Flora shaking her head: So it's true then? It was all a scam? But what did the Earl say? What about Taplows? How many staff have to go?

Jarvis unmoving in his coldness towards her: I do not think it is any longer any of your business, Mrs Ryan. Looks like you're getting out at just the right time, don't you think? How nice and convenient! You may feign concern for your fellow servants if you like, but don't do it in front of me. Now if you please!

Fighting back the tears, Flora ducks under Jarvis' outstretched arm as he leans on the door and hurries away

Jarvis after her: That's right! You go after him! Tell him the whole sob story! 

Growling, he slams the door again, and looks over at his desk. He has a whole morning of figures and decisions ahead of him, and none of it looks inviting.

Meanwhile, at the lower servants breakfast table, the conversation simply cannot stop flowing, as all who were present in the courtyard, and even those who weren't, all had an opinion on the rather unexpected turn of events. There was no need for the usual round of extravagant theories to be dreamt up concerning this latest senior staff bust up, as those who were able to press their ears up against the kitchen door, after Jarvis had slammed it shut on them, heard the whole sorry mess, beginning to end. Breakfast had been served in the understandable absence of the chef, but the most of the food remained on the table, as the frenzied discussion left little time for eating. Both Adams and Lizzie, who had some prior knowledge of the situation were almost as stunned as the rest, though they chose to remain largely silent, out of respect for those involved. However, not much respect was currently being shown for Mr Kraus, whom on walking from his room to get another cold compress, gained a scathing stare from Charlotte. The maid was of the notion that it was he who, as Jarvis had said, had prayed upon the distressed Mrs Ryan, taking this opportunity whilst she was vulnerable, to claim her for himself.

Indeed, this seemed to be the general consensus, as the footmen all praised Jarvis' efforts to show his 'friend' exactly what he was made of. Johnny, once again having found his voice was boasting over how he had been so right about the situation, denouncing them all for not having taken his account of a kiss between the housekeeper and the chef with anything more than a pinch of salt. The usually reserved footman was in his element after being proved right, and he wasn't about to let the others forget that in a hurry. It was only Grace who was sympathetic of all three, the only one who was defending Kraus, as she hit the nail on the head with the suggestion that he was only trying to save face for Mrs Ryan and would be umpteen times more reliable than Jarvis, as all their rowing would hardly be constructive for the child. Lizzie wanted to jump in and help her friend out, as she was also of the same opinion on the matter, but feared if she started speaking her mind, she may let slip that she had known about Flora's unborn child.

After Grace had declared that, the conversation moved from the surface issue of the men fighting it out over Mrs Ryan, to the most alarming subject of her pregnancy, more accurately who the father was. However, surprisingly there were few who would argue against it being the butler, as though they had never dreamed she would let herself become pregnant, it was so far beyond any of their wildest thoughts that the child could not have been Jarvis'. Naturally, Grace was leading this strong case, the only objections coming from a certain sarcastic footman. This was a rare occasion when this wasn't actually Will, as he was being rather serious and sensible about the matter, insisting that no one could have any reason to doubt Mrs Ryan, as she had always been so admirably forthright. The footman in question was the next natural choice, Fred, who hadn't been at Taplows the previous afternoon, as it was his time off. On returning from Tappleton, well, actually, from the Cock and Bull, he was not really of a deposition to take much in, as he had previously taken in a rather large amount of apple cider. So, it was like hearing the story for the first time (again) this morning, and he couldn't resist jumping into the conversation here and there with little quips.

Finally, as the great clock chimed for 8am, leaving the staff just ten minutes to be ready for duty, verbal bets were being taken whether or not the two unlikely lovers would indeed leave, together, or apart, with the winnings not being in money, but the distribution of the most unwanted tasks, for the duration of a fortnight. As George was placing his, he suddenly held his tongue, as Grace returned to the room. She had left it a few moments earlier with Lizzie and shortly afterwards Adams, in disgust that people could view theses awkward circumstances in such a trivial light. She came back reluctantly to deliver a message to Susan that she was required in Mr Jarvis' office promptly, before turning on her heels and returning to the sewing room. At this announcement Susan began (once again) to complain that he had probably conjured up a mammoth task for her, which would take her hours - why was it always her, she puzzled, that he chose to do all the hardwork? As she left, so did the others, fearing that in his current state of temper, Jarvis might storm down there and give them all extra chores to do.

Jarvis stood with his back to his door, already he'd notified five scullery maids and three of the stable lads that their services were no longer required at Taplows, the news they had they had taken the hardest was that they would only be being paid till the end of the week. He had asked them to clear out their belongings and report to him at the end of the day for their characters. Sighing to himself he wished he hadn't shouted at Flora earlier, especially since now he had to sack one of her maids and he had had to make the decision alone which one to sack. He was snapped out of his reverie by a soft tapping at his door, he took a deep breath and wished under his breath it was Flora, preferable bearing a tray of tea and cake like she used to whenever he missed a meal. Turning around he beckoned to Susan to enter, with any luck he thought this shouldn't take long.

"You wanted to speak to me Mr Jarvis?" Susan asked, pushing her bonnet on straight and whipping her hands on her apron nervously.

"Yes Susan I did, would you please sit down, what I have to say is going to come as a bit of a shock!"

Five minutes later and the door to Jarvis's office opened once more, a sobbing Susan slowly shuffled into the corridor, blinded by her tears she walked straight into Joe and Fred who were carrying a heavy chest outside.

"Watch were you going Susie!" Bellowed Fred as he swerved to avoid a collision, unfortunately jerking the chest out of Joe's hands which then smashed down on the poor footman's foot. Joe grabbed his injured toes with his hands and hopped along the corridor till he could sit quietly on the stairs massaging them back to life.

Fred laughed out loud at his friend's plight, glancing in Susan's direction in order to share the joke, but the maid wasn't laughing. She wasn't even trying to stifle a giggle, the tears were running freely down her cheeks, and when Fred opened his mouth to ask what was wrong she practically threw herself into the young footman's arms. Bemused Fred patted her awkwardly on the back, comforting distraught women was obviously not his specialty. Curious Joe rejoined them, his throbbing foot forgotten in the light of Susan's distress, slowly he mouthed to Fred, "What's wrong?"

Fred shrugged his shoulder, rolling his eyes to the heavens, as far as he knew it could be anything from a dying relative to a toothache. Slowly he prised the blubbering maid from him and carefully he and Joe escorted her to the lower servants hall, where she flung herself onto Charlotte. After a few minutes a substantial crowd had gathered all anxious to learn what was the matter with the maid.

"Come on Susie out with it! What's got you so upset?" Joe asked concerned.

"Adams probably turned her down!" Will quipped from the sidelines, snorting with laughter at his own joke.

Suddenly Susan found her voice, and pulling away from Charlotte she strode over to Will, "That's right you laugh it up now Will Forest. You'll be laughing on the other side of your face soon, when Mr Jarvis summons you into his office and tells you you've been laid off!"

"What!" Will gasped, his disbelief echoed by those around him.

"That's right!" Susan yelled as if possessed. "All of you! All of your jobs are at risk too. Guess what the Earls gone bankrupt, and he's ordered Jarvis to sack most of the staff, we're to leave by the end of the week and what's more there's no money!"

"What do you mean no money?" Fred asked anxiously.

"Thought that might get through that thick scull of your Frederick Matkin? There's no money, no redundancy money, all we get are our wages paid up to the end of the week and our character!"

"Bloody Hell!" Exclaimed Will, shaking his head in disbelief, as most of the servants began to panic and shout.

"What on earth is going on in here?" Sounded Mrs Ryan's voice clear as a bell above the rabble.

Susan dashed over to her and grabbed hold of the housekeepers sleeve, "Please Mrs Ryan you have to talk to the Earl for us, Mr Jarvis said there's no redundancy money but there just has to be Mrs Ryan, how are we going to cope with no job and no money and being thrown out at the end of the week!" Her voice just tailed off as she once more descended into hysterics but she could not be prised away from the startled housekeeper.

Finally Will stepped in and physically wrenched Susan's hand off of Mrs Ryan's arm, which the housekeeper rubbed furiously anxious to restore circulation. Susan was quickly whisked away by Charlotte to the maid's room to lie down and compose herself.

Flora turned anxious and worried, how could there be no redundancy money the Earl had a duty to look after his staff, she had no choice but to risk Walter's wrath and ask him what was going on. She turned and made her way to Mr Jarvis's office, Will sensing an opportunity quickly followed and fell in step beside her. After a few moments she stopped and indicating for Will to follow made her way to her own office.

"I can only give you a few minutes Mr Forest, I suggest you get whatever it is off your chest." She said stepping inside and making her way over to her desk

Will smiled and followed her over to the table, he waited for her to sit before he began. "What's going on Mrs Ryan, the Earl isn't really completely bankrupt is he? I mean I know he went to London to meet some bankers and everything I mean I was there but……"

Flora sighed and rubbed her forehead trying to ease the start of yet another headache, "it's true, he is bankrupt and there is no redundancy money, over half of the staff will be made redundant over the next few days!" She raised a hand to stall his next question, "no I don't know who! Mr Jarvis has not seen fit to discuss the matter with me and as a result I have little to no influence in the process. I'm sorry." She added, looking up at the concerned lad, sympathy clear on her face. "As if you haven't been through enough changes this last year. Will if you need any help, you can always come and talk to me, I'll do what I can." She said smiling one of her half smiles.

Will let go of the breath he'd been holding and he looked up meeting Flora's gaze and he smiled back, "don't worry about me Mrs Ryan, I always fall on my feet and besides you've got enough to worry about what with moving and the…. The well you know, the baby and everything." He stopped suddenly as Flora's eyes teared up. "I'm sorry, I didn't say that to upset you or anything, it's just I understand how hard it must be on you at the moment you don't need to be burdened with my problems on top of everything else."

Flora's smile widened and a single tear broke free and fell down her cheek as she reached out and grasped Will's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Will smiled back, a slight blush appearing as he felt the warmth of her hand on his, and reluctantly he released it and slowly backed out of the room, leaving Mrs Ryan alone with her thoughts.

However, Will didn't manage to get very far, only down to the second floor corridor before another firey female caught up with him. Lizzie had just returned, in some haste from the orangery, where she had mistakenly thought she had seen a rather unwanted visitor marching down the drive towards the house. On spying the man, she had dropped the miniature watering can she had been holding, and leapt behind one of the more fuller trees. As she hid, her heart pounded in her chest at the anticipation of it being William Forrest the elder, as the man was walking rather oddly. But after an anxious few minutes, Lizzie thankfully recognised him as being Jacob, one of the more aged gardeners, who had, for as long as she had known him, walked with a limp. It was only then that she was able to relax a little, but not for long, as her fear soon turned to anger. She had volunteered to go up to the orangery, as it would help her keep her end of the bargain with Will, to help him look out for any sign of a return. However, Lizzie was all too aware that, Will, who never seemed to be around anymore, was not keeping his end, a matter that she intended to correct that very moment.

"Will, I need a word with you!" she called down the corridor with a hint of strain in her voice

"Not now eh Liz? His lordship's got me walking his bloody dogs this afternoon, damned things, was hoping for a rest with my time off!"

"YOU were hoping for a rest! What about me?" she cried

"You had your morning off yesterday luv, I havn't had one since before London!" he reminded her

"Not much of a bloody morning off was it? Keeping to the garden, checking the perimeters for a certain relative of yours!"

"Well, you know that cant be helped I-"

"And don't call me luv! Honestly, I could just about throttle you right now!" she warned, still breathing a little heavily due to her brisk jog from the orangery.

Noticing that her cheeks were infact a little red "Whats up Liz, are you alright"? he enquired tenderly, reaching out to brush her arm.

At this she stepped away from him, holding up her hands, before hugging herself as a barrier toward him. "NO I'm not alright, we nearly had another close call just now!"

Will, immediately comprehending what she meant by that, reverted back to his cat-on-hot-bricks mode, bursting "What, is he here!"

"Well, no…"

"Well who was it then? Are you sure!"

Lizzie tiring of his selfishness, was forced to admit a little sheepishly that it had, in actual fact been Jacob. Though she didn't leave Will chance to call her silly or anything like that, though it may as well have been written on his forehead on reading his expression.

"But it could have been for all you'd have known! Where were you when I needed you Will?"

"But you didn't need me though did you, it was a false alarm, don't worry."

"Don't worry? No I suppose you don't do you, as its always me whose on guard while your off god knows where, leaving me to deal with, with…. (she was struggling).. Oh, you know what he is!"

Taking offence at the implication that he wasn't pulling his weight, Will answered in a raised voice "Well its not exactly my choice is it!"

"Well, do you really think its mine!" she retorted

"I HAVE no choice, I'm at the Earl's beck and call, even more so now bloody Jarvis just turns up whenever he sodding feels like it!"

At this, Lizzie did concede that he had a point, but continued with her thread regardless "I'm on edge ALL the time, I cant even go into town now through fear that he'll recognise me!" shaking her head, nodding towards the floor wearily.

At this, he again stepped closer to her, and his voice softened, assuring her that she was safe. This appeared to fall on deaf ears, as once again she withdrew from him, leaving him a little confused and decidedly put out.

"Well, what do you expect me to do Elizabeth? Hmm? Drop everything, tell Earl to tie his own shoelaces, just so I can hold your hand!" he challenged.

"No of course not I-"

Having taken no notice, he continued sarcastically "Right, that's it then, I'll go and tell the earl right now, shall I!

Lizzie just glanced up at him, just catching his eye.

"After all, he is expecting me, may I be excused?" At this, he started stomping off down the corridor towards the stairs.

"I just, just want a little more support from you!" Lizzie called after him, before entering the room of the doorway she had been standing in.

At hearing these last words, Will did turn round, as although he was frustrated, he did feel bad about leaving her to potentially encounter his father lone. As he carried on walking, he pledged he'd never forgive himself if something did happen to her, and resolved to tell her that, when he'd calmed down. However, this wasn't going to be anytime in the very immediate future as he hated dogs, especially the little yappy things that Lady Caroline owned. Indeed, on his way, he had decided that, if he wasn't going to be able to have his afternoon off, and as he couldn't face stepping foot in the Cock and Bull anyway, he would have to create his own makeshift pub. This wasn't going to be as difficult as it sounded, as on looking after the rather intoxicated Earl the previous evening, Will had taken the liberty of removing one of His lordship's prized bottles of port, for safe keeping naturally. After to picking up the mutts from the west wing entrance, Will decided to take them on a new route, via the gazebo, but didn't actually manage to get beyond the structure in the garden, tying the dogs to a nearby trees, letting them walk themselves.

On entering the gazebo, he removed the small vintage bottle from his jacket. Before the rim could touch his lips, a stern, but playful voice called out "I don't think his lordship will thank you for that Mr Forrest!"

Will froze for a moment in shock, then he began to chock on the small mouthful of port he had managed to swig out of the bottle. Suddenly the hidden figure dashed over and began to pat him firmly on the back till he stopped choking.

"Thank you, Mrs Ryan." Will wheezed.

"Hmmmmmm, well if you didn't find the need to hide out in the gazebo drinking his lordships spirits things like this wouldn't happen!" She said in a firm yet teasing tone, a slight smile pulling at her mouth.

"Yes, well, sorry." Will added sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders and pulling his knees up under his chin. "It's just….well I needed to get away, away from all that!" He said pointing back over his shoulders at Taplows.

"Yes, believe me that I understand!" Flora said sympathetically, "I suppose that's why I'm here too, hiding I suppose you'd say." She added hugging herself protectively.

Will turned and looked at her then, she seemed so lost and alone, not at all like the normal armour plated Mrs Ryan he'd seen in all his time at Taplows. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked tentatively.

Flora shook her head, "You?".

"Definitely not!" Will replied, taking another swig of his port before remembering he had company and offered the bottle to her.

Flora looked at it for a minute bemused before bursting out laughing, she laughed so hard that she thought she would burst in two and she couldn't stop tears sliding down her cheeks. For a few moments Will just stared at her, he had never seen her like this and surprisingly it suited her, then her laughter became infectious and pretty soon he too was in hysterics.

"What are we laughing about?" he choked out after a few minutes.

Flora sat up, wiping her tears away and trying to stifle her laughter long enough to answer, "I honestly don't know, it's just the whole situation I haven't swigged out of a bottle since I was sixteen."

"Well it wasn't that long ago," Will replies teasingly, "You should remember how!"

Flora turned to him beaming, "that has to be the sweetest lie I think I've ever heard!"

Will pushed the bottle towards her, "Go on I bet you do remember!"

Smiling Flora shook her head once more, and patted her stomach "I'd better not, I don't want this baby coming out pickled."

"Are you really going to Prussia with Mr Kraus?" Will asked hesitantly. Flora didn't reply, but simply nodded her agreement, her eyes welling with tears once more. For a moment Will didn't know what to do, finally he opened his arms and Flora just fell into them, sobbing against his shoulder. "There there, it'll be alright, I'm sure you'll like it, Prussia can't be all that different from here and Mr Kraus will take good care of you both."

Flora mumbled through her tears and Will leant in closer to try and catch what she said, all he caught was, "but Walter….he said…so what choice do I have?" She finished looking up at Will in despair, her eyes pleading with him for another solution. Will smiled sadly brushing her hair away from her tear stained face, his eyes locked with hers, which pulled him in like magnets. They're just like sapphires he thought before leaning forward and kissing the tears off her face, he pulled away and brushed his nose against hers glancing up at her eyes, but they were half closed and she leant towards him. Will paused then gently lent down placing a soft kiss on her lips, Flora's eyes opened suddenly but she didn't pull away. After a few moments Will pulled back, his cheeks red and his smile bashful. Flora smiled back at him, "Thank you."

"It's alright, believe me my pleasure!" He replied cheekily, anxious to hide his embarrassment.

"I mean it Will, I came out here earlier thinking that my world was coming to an end, but then you came with your jokes and, well you know….It made me forget all my troubles for a least a few moments, thank you!"

Will stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he stared down at the ground before speaking, "My Pleasure honestly, I mean how many lads get to live out even a small part of their youthful fantasies?"

"Will!" Flora called out as he turned to leave, "Don't give up, whatever you do if something's worth having it's worth fighting for!" He glanced up at her, fixing forever in his mind the way she smiled and the twinkle in her eyes, and then stored that away forever in his memory. Then bidding her goodnight he practically skipped up back up the house, his good humour restored he thought once more of Lizzie and his growing affection for the young Scottish lass. Maybe Mrs Ryan was right perhaps it was time to take the bull by the horns, and tell the girl how he felt.

It is 10pm and Jarvis is still sat in his office, rather than retiring to his room. He is done looking at his figures – his head is spinning with the day's events and his brain is just unable to calculate any more numbers. He sits back, pulling out his last cigar. He frowns and grunts; damn he had forgotten in the midst of everything to order more. Shrugging, he decides to send in Johnny, saved from the chop, into Tappleton to buy more tomorrow. He lights up, the loneliness beginning to creep in again in the silence of the room. It seems so long ago to him since he made a habit of visiting the chef in his sitting room for a swift brandy and a chat about the day. He hasn't done that for weeks now – in fact he hasn't spoken to hardly anyone in the evenings for a while now, unless it was to shout and argue.

He concludes that the silence is actually rather a blessing compared to everything that has happened of late. His mind wanders to thinking about his own future. He still hasn't decided whether to stay or not at Taplows, or to look for alternative employment. True, he was still rather young for a butler, as well as experienced, but he knows that there isn't exactly a shortage of them, so it could be quite a gamble. And it all seems totally pointless anyway without a certain someone – a certain family, he feels he is entitled to.

Tap, tap!

Jarvis looks up from the desk and his thoughts, and to his surprise and strange amusement sees Adams hovering outside his door, a bottle of brandy in his grasp and two glasses in the other. He doesn't even want to begin where the footman had got  
the liquor from.

Jarvis somewhat sarcastically: Mr Adams, if you must drink do you have to make it so obvious!

Adams enters quietly, putting the glasses and bottle on Jarvis' desk

Adams: Well, I thought after today you could do with a drink.

Jarvis sharply, hardly in the mood for Adams and his attitude: I am quite capable of getting my own drink if required, thank you all the same.

Adams ignoring him and pouring: And I thought you could do with the company. I know I could.

Jarvis, immediately suspicious, tuts and indicates to Adams to pull up a chair anyway. He didn't think it right to turn down a drink when offered, so concludes he should, out of politeness, spend one glass in the footman's company. Reluctantly he accepts the glass and looks intently at Adams, who obviously wants to say something but can't seem to spit it out. There is a rather uncomfortable silence as the two men sup their brandy, not quite sure who should speak first

Adams giving in: Nasty business, these sackings. Fiffington-Piffles, he should burn in Hell!

Jarvis eyes widening: Mr Adams! The man should most certainly be brought to justice yes, but I do not think that you, or I for that matter, are in any position to serve him his sentence!

Silence descends once again until Adams goes to speak then hesitates. Jarvis is finding this most infuriating and is just about to end the evening when Adams blurts out what is on his mind

Adams shifting uneasily in his chair: I was thinking………about you and Mrs Ryan, and your, er, situation.

This causes Jarvis to raise his eyebrows and lean forward slightly, not quite sure what to make of that somewhat shocking statement. He was really expecting Adams to moan about Will and how much of an upstart he considers him, or at a push the awkwardness of working with his estranged daughter, but never that. He is just glad he wasn't actually drinking at the time

Jarvis teasing slightly but also a little put-out that a footman could be thinking about a butler's private business: Oh, were you? And what situation would that be then?

Adams gulping and reddening: Well, you know, I don't know how you can bare her to leave with that Prussian nancy when she's expecting your baby.

Jarvis is gobsmacked, but is also to his surprise a little interested to know Adams' opinion, although he would never let on that he needs any advice from anyone. He doesn't know what the whole love triangle must look like to an outsider, so decides to press Adams a little further while half feigning and half believing that Adams has no right to say such things

Jarvis placing his glass down on the desk: Is that right? And what would you have me do? You are hardly one to give advice on affairs of the heart, Mr Adams.

Adams almost defiant: It seems so simple to me, Mr Jarvis. You should have let her know who was boss right from the start.

Jarvis toying with Adams' awkwardness and embarrassment: Well, she knows that I am butler and she is housekeeper, Mr Adams, she has worked here for a number of years.

Adams exasperatedly shaking his head and pouring two more glasses of brandy: She should have known that you know best and that she couldn't manipulate you.

Jarvis glaring: She hasn't manipulated me!

Adams: Aw, c'mon, Mr Jarvis, she has you wrapped around her little finger. Fighting in the courtyard, that's not like you! She has you mad, mark my words! You obviously let her get away with far too much in the beginning, she now needs to know exactly her duty to you – her submissive duty. Never mind that chef! I cannot bear to see a man dragged down by a woman!

Jarvis hissing: Mr Adams! I think you have said quite enough and I am now fully aware of your opinion on the matter!

Adams downs his glass of brandy, then scrapes back his chair. Oh good, thinks Jarvis, he's got the message to leave

Adams grinning: I know what we need – some of Kraus' homebrew!

Before Jarvis can reply that he can't bear the stuff, one only has to sniff it before falling unconscious it is so toxic, Adams has trotted out of the office in search of it. This leaves Jarvis, momentarily, with his thoughts. He concludes he needs a speech. That's right, he needs to work out exactly what to say to her before he says it. He can't trip over his words or mumble or give her an inch – she has to know that she has an obligation as the mother of his expectant child to marry him and be a proper wife. Adams was right. It is time to assert his authority.

Two hours later, Adams and Jarvis are still in Jarvis' office after four pints each of Kraus' homebrew and a further two glasses of brandy. Adams is slumped backwards in his chair, but as he has had lots of practice over the years – more than Jarvis it seems – he is still rather alert if more than a little slurred. Jarvis is leaning forward, his head resting on his hand as he tries to focus on the bottom of his glass

Jarvis slurred and somewhat incoherent: But I love her, Mr Adams, I really do.

Adams feeling nauseous: Aye, you do that, sir. You've said many a dozen times now.

Jarvis looking almost tearful as he tries to squeeze one last drop out the brandy bottle: She's so beautiful, and funny, and attractive, and oh that accent Mr Adams, so soft and soothing. Why does she love him? Why! What's he got that I haven't!

Adams, rolling his eyes, is now beyond caring and wishes he had never brought up the damn subject. He tries to get up from his chair but can't even lift out his weary and numb body

Adams: Well, you just tell her who's boss.

Jarvis waving his glass around then pointing at Adams almost accusingly: Y'know, I will. I will! If she thinks she's hic! going to leave with…with HIM then she can bloody well think again!

Adams sniggering: Well, you certainly need to take out your frustration somehow!

Jarvis nodding as gravely as he can manage under the circumstances: Yes her attitude towards me is totally unacceptable!

Adams Finally wobbling to his feet: Not that kind of frustrating! Well, hic! you're not getting any at the moment are you! And once you get used to having it on a regular basis! What it seems you need is a damn good……..

But before he can finish his rather dubious sentence his legs are so weak they give way under him and he goes crashing down, knocking the chair out of the way and landing hard on the floor. Jarvis begins to snigger then laughs out loud as Adams tries to pull himself up but slips back down again, burping loudly. The butler finally calms down, scraping back his chair and slowly – very slowly – stands and staggers round the side of the desk, looking desperately hard at the floor for Adams. Adams, giggling to himself on the floor, is awkwardly hauled up until the two men are standing to the best of their ability

Jarvis waving his arm in the direction of the door: You know what? You know bleeding well what!

Adams gulping hard and breathing deeply, not really interested in 'what': What?

Jarvis: I'm going hic!….going to go and tell her now! She is going to sleep in MY bed tonight and she'll damn well like it!

Adams even in his drunken state taken aback by Jarvis' forthrightness: No! Noooo. Sir, don't do that, not tonight. You're intoxicated, you need to be on top form and I think you need to sleep now.

He steadies Jarvis who staggers backwards into the desk, banging his leg. Jarvis fails to notice that this is about the most sensible thing Adams has ever said to him, as they both exit the office in the most wobbly fashion, leaving their drinking debris behind them.


	5. Episode 5

The morning came all too soon for the two most unlikely of drinking partners, each stirring from their slumbers with rather severe headaches. The superior of the two woke first and was quite disillusioned to discover that hangovers only grew worse with age, either that, or with an increased amount of alcohol, but at that moment, he couldn't fathom which. His thoughts soon changed from the liquor to what he could remember of the conversation between the two. This took a surprisingly short time because he didn't really need to remember, as he had never forgot, no matter how bad things had ever gotten between them (even this time) his thoughts were never very far from her. She was his constant, though not for much longer he feared, as it dawned on him that this was the day of her leaving 'party'.

This notion made him feel physically sick (even more so), as he cursed the blessed event. It had been enthusiastically promoted by Grace and Lizzie, who were determined that, if Mrs Ryan was really going to leave them, she and Kraus deserved a damned good send off. Had he known of this prior to the decision being made, Jarvis would have endeavoured to put a stop to proceedings, but as he was busy with making the unfortunate redundancies, it was Flora who had authorised the occasion. Initially she wavered over taking the decision herself, but resolved that as Jarvis had not informed her before hand who he was going to sack, and as she felt it her duty to Kraus to have his departure from Taplows marked suitably, she could not object to the maids' pleas.

Reluctantly, he flung back the bed covers, and raised himself at normal pace to begin with, but slowing down significantly after suffering the biggest head rush imaginable. He tentatively made his way over to his chair, over which he had slung his dressing gown the previous evening, or was it earlier that morning? In any case, he persisted to wrap it round him, once he'd finally found the right armholes, and leisurely strolled off down the corridor to find Johnny, as he was now craving a fine Cuban cigar. On his way he made a firm decision, reiterating what he had drunkenly slurred previously, that today would be the day in which his beloved housekeeper would return to his arms, leaving those of the 'Prussian idiot's' forever (or so he hoped).

Indeed, it was the butler's murmurings which coaxed Andrew Adams into opening his weary eyes when he just couldn't stand the ringing of Jarvis wining 'God, I love her' repeating itself over and over between his ears. He was glad that Jarvis has resolved to put an end to the whole non-sensical charade, if only for his own sake, as well as theirs. Despite his feelings of animosity towards Jarvis, he couldn't bear to see the man wallowing in self pity, as this annoyed him more than any lecture. Reaching out and grabbing his watch, he exclaimed internally 'Christ, is that the time!' In frustration he flopped his head back down onto the pillow, bringing his hands to his face, and dragging them down it. He let out an "Urgh" when stretching, but quickly managed to bring himself to get up, as if he stayed there any longer it was a sure fire thing that Will would come round to crack the whip. As he made his way down to the lower servants dining hall, he made a minor pit stop in order to guzzle down some much needed water.

On entering the dining hall, he was met with all the familiar faces, in an all too familiar blurry appearance. However, through the haze, he had noticed the absence of Susan, and was quickly filled in on her departure by those who had consoled her the previous day. Whilst he did feel a slight twinge of regret that she had been sacked, Adams would certainly not miss the rather disturbing way in which she used to stare at him as he slurped his cups of Earl Grey in the morning. His attention, along with everyone else's in the room was now seized by Grace, who took it upon herself to delegate duties for the party preparation, with her trusty first mate Lizzy standing at her side. When Will reminded them that they also had other work to do on temporarily slipping into under-butler mode. Grace, giving no consequence to the fact that he was now (if only officially) her superior, simply challenged his sense of duty to Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus, which he conceded was greater than that to the mundane chores.

After a rather lengthily discussion as they wolfed down their breakfasts, with Grace and Lizzie being the main contenders, each person around the table had been assigned their own little part to play, once they had finished their absolutely necessary housework of course. Charlotte, who rather considered her self to have been Kraus' protégé, was placed in charge of organising the food, which was quite alright with Lizzie and Grace, as they had always worked best in the kitchen when they were given orders to carry out. However, as virtual hostesses, this was not to be their sole responsibility, indeed, they insisted on decorating the room with anything they could get their hands on. George was roped into this, Grace telling him to find decorations (from god knows where he thought to himself), before reporting back to them, when they had finished helping Charlotte in the kitchen.

Fred and Joe were blessed with having to scrub and then polish the floor, as the housekeeper had commented, during her recent frenzied phase of cleaning, that it was a complete and utter disgrace. Adams was rather appropriately, if somewhat being criticised, when he was given the task of finding out some form of alcohol from 'wherever necessary', and then try to concoct the chef's homebrew, as a kind of tribute gesture to him. Initially, Adams thought of protesting at this suggestion, as he wasn't sure just how Jarvis was going to take the whole thing, but stayed quiet, as Grace didn't give him even a millisecond to refute her. All assembled were assured that Mrs Ryan's leaving present was well taken care of, as both Grace and Lizzie had spent all their spare time since the revelations, knitting a baby grow for her unborn child. With that, Grace dismissed them, reminding them that the sooner they had carried out their essential daily jobs, the sooner they could begin the preparations!

It is now late afternoon, and a group of maids had found the time to get together and create a large 'Bon Voyage Felix and Flora' banner, which Fred and Will hoisted up, and Grace and Charlotte are in the midst of making coloured paper streamers and rather amusing party hats from card, once they had rummaged through the servants quarters to see what bits and pieces they could gather. In the kitchens, cakes, jellies, colourful ice cream were being prepared, while Kraus worked silently and swiftly in the Pastry to get a number of his best pies made – one for the Earl, and the others for the party. This is one of the last times he would ever use his beloved Pastry oven, with its bundles of twigs, at Taplows again, and this brought a small tear to his eye as he created a delicate pastry bird for the top of a cherry pie made especially for Flora. 

The preparations continue for a few more hours, amongst the usual whispering gossip about Susan's departure, and who may be next, while Fred and George take bets on whether Jarvis will punch Kraus' lights out again. George is quick to comment that he had been rather impressed with Jarvis' technique, so places a firm bet on him winning in another competition. Fred, a little unsure, argues that Kraus may have brushed up on his own right hook by now as he had witnessed him earlier taking out his frustration on a large bag of flour, so places a substantial bet in the chef's favour. Joe informs them both that they are wasting their money, and that he doesn't predict any more fisticuffs between the two, but Fred and George just dismiss him as being a spoil-sport. 

It is now 7pm, and most of the preparations are complete, the party streamers are up and much of the food is out on the table. Grace and Lizzie admire their efforts briefly, then dash of laughing and singing to wash and to wrap Flora's presents decoratively with ribbon. Nobody had seen Flora for a couple of hours now, but because of her 'condition' and the fact that she had been working her fingers to the bone the last few days, it hadn't been surprising to anyone that she should want a lie down and to take her time packing her clothes. Anyway, the servants had been glad to have her out of the way, and Grace had been especially insistent that she knew as little as possible about the celebrations that evening. Little had been seen of Jarvis that afternoon either – he had had no wish to involve himself in such an event, so had either spent hours in his office rehashing his figures to save as many staff as possible, at the Earl's beck and call, or in his room.

He had already gone through half of his cigars by 6 o'clock, so had forced himself to stop – he had concluded that he will probably need the rest just to get him through that evening's charade, before he could build up the courage to talk to her. No, to ORDER her. Now, at 7pm in his quarters, Jarvis decides that he needs to dress in his finest, show the woman what she would be missing out on in Prussia. He had already left the letters and parcel in Kraus' room, just in case, for some terrible reason, he had failed to win her back. But this, he resolves, is most certainly not about to happen. Rising to his feet and walking over to his wardrobe, a wave of nausea engulfs him. He is not quite sure if that is because of the previous night's lingering after-effects or because he had been thinking about Flora again, but whichever it is he is determined to ignore it. Rummaging through his waistcoats, he smiles to himself as he comes across the one Flora always likes him in best - a very dark purple one covered in very finely embroidered dark green leaves. Pulling it out, he ponders over it for a second before deciding firmly that this is the one he is going to wear. This'll show her, he thinks, tossing it onto the bed and brushing down his finest dinner jacket. She will remember its significance – he wore it when she was feeling frisky after her pond fight with the dreaded Mrs Stanwick, and wore it again when they had been feeling naughty and childish in his room, before George and Grace ruined their tickling fight over the book of figures. 

He paused, remembering that she had once commented to him that that waistcoat had been one of the first things that attracted her to him, symbolising his obvious good taste in clothes. This had annoyed him considerably at the time, thinking that it had been his devilish good looks and suave sophistication which first attracted her. She had merely smiled back, winking and kissing him before admitting that maybe that had had something to do with it too, even if she didn't normally go for blonds. Smiling to himself, he changes then spends time looking in the mirror to make sure that his hair is perfect – everything had to be perfect. It is his turn to play the tease, keeping her guessing all evening before finally having it out with her. Eventually, after a last once-over in the mirror, he tugs at his sleeves and waistcoat and turns to exit his room. Suddenly he pauses, turning quickly and dashing to his bedside table. How could he nearly have forgotten? Pulling open the drawer, he sits on the bed and takes out the small box containing the ring. Opening the box slowly, he stares at its sparkling features as he toys with it slightly in its felt holder. Sighing, he shuts it firmly and places it in the inside pocket of his jacket as he walks round the bed to the door 

Jarvis under his breath as he opens the door: I'll make an honest woman of you yet, Flora Ryan, you mark my words.

Downstairs in the servants hall, the merriment is underway. Everyone is a little more subdued because of recent departures, and Grace least of all wants to see Mrs Ryan leave, but still the servants are determined to give her and the chef the send-off they deserve. Charlotte had made some punch, which she is serving out in large quantities, while Adams warms up on the piano and Grace and Lizzie practice a little routine they had concocted to 'My Old Man's A Chimneysweep' while getting ready for the party.

Charlotte exasperated as Grace comes up to her, hands on her hips: Where is she? It's almost eight.

Grace lowering her voice: Give her time, she'll be here. Don't worry, this won't have been for nothing……..

Grace tails off as the lower servants turn to see Jarvis standing in the doorway, obviously feeling slightly awkward since they had seen very little of him since the fight. A social setting seems to be the last thing the butler needs, concludes Grace, but before she can speak Adams pipes up

AdamsTo Jarvis, almost smug: You look very fine tonight, sir.

Jarvis walking into the room, indicating to the servants to carry on chatting: Thank you, Mr Adams. 

Make the effort, make the effort, he keeps thinking as he scans the room for any sign of Mrs Ryan or Kraus. Neither appear to be there, so he beams and trots up to Charlotte, who is stood with the punch ladle in her hand

Jarvis trying to ignore her gawping and indicating to the bowl in front of her: Miss Lewis, is that punch I see before me?

Charlotte unblinking, as if she is being scolded rather than conversed with: Y…yes, Mr Jarvis, punch it is. 

Jarvis notices in the corner of his eye Fred and George doubling over at the word 'punch' and muttering something about the word being ironic, before he returns his full attention to the maid

Jarvis chuckling: Well, don't just stand there, Charlotte, I'd like some punch, if you please.

This is too much for the two footmen, who laugh out loud clutching their sides, only to pipe down when Jarvis turns to them with a sour look on his face

Jarvis clutching his now full glass: And what is so funny, Mr Cosmo? Mr Matkin?

But before they can come back with some cheap retort, the room falls silent again as they all turn to see Mrs Ryan entering the room – arm in arm with Felix Kraus. Jarvis is instantly disgusted, gripping his glass so hard that he thinks he may very well crush it into tiny fragments. Flora gives the room a once-over, her face lighting up at the sight of so much effort and thoughtfulness. Grace and a few of the maids shout 'surprise!' as she pulls away from Kraus to clasp her hands together in joy

Flora beaming and turning a little pink: Oh, this is all lovely – lovely! Who did all this?

Will winking at her and jumping forward, then indicating to blushing Grace: I think you will find that it was Miss May, Mrs Ryan, along with Miss McDuff who did most of the planning. And Charlotte made a good proportion of the food.

Flora: Well, thank you so much, girls, I thought maybe a few sandwiches, I didn't expect all of this!

She walks forward, hugging Grace then kissing her cheek. The two maids then excitedly pull out their presents, which Flora opens and is obviously touched with the baby clothes. She makes no attempt to look at Jarvis, who has backed into a corner with now his second glass of punch. The night before obviously hasn't put him off the old alcohol, even if it wasn't a stiff a drink as Adams' offerings.

Kraus throwing open his arms and smiling brightly: What we need tonight is a final cheese-rolling competition! I have saved my finest cheese for the occasion!

Cheers go up from the footmen as they tackle Adams' attempt at Kraus' homebrew, which makes the chef's usual seem like weak pauper's ale in comparison. It is not long before they are more than a little merry, gathered round the piano, played enthusiastically by Charlotte. Adams is first up to sing, so belts out in a rather flat tone some unknown Scottish jig which requires some sort of Highland fling. Everyone present is just relieved that Adams hadn't decided to wear his kilt that evening.

Jarvis is sat silently in a chair, watching the performances and clapping politely where appropriate, but from time to time he is unable to take his gaze off the outgoing housekeeper. She seems to him on the surface to look so radiant and happy, but he knows her too well and is able to sense her underlying sadness and regret. But not once has she looked over in his direction – well, not that he is aware of anyway. It was then that Charlotte decides to try her hand at playing AND singing, embarking upon a beautiful yet sad and wistful song about losing the love of her life through her own stupidity. Flora has managed until then to keep herself composed, to good effect she thinks, but a such a sad song only served to stir up well suppressed emotions. 

Grace catches her eye and smiles at her, but Flora only replies with a half smile then looks over at Jarvis, who is staring at his shoes, obviously in a deep sulk. She fixes her gaze on him, willing him to look at her with those beautiful blue eyes of his, as she can see he has made an effort to look his very best. A lump catches in her throat and tears form at the back of her eyes as she stares at the waistcoat – the first thing she had noticed on entering the room before even seeing the banners and streamers in her honour. She is about to look away when suddenly, as if he has felt her eyes upon him, Jarvis shoots a glance at her and their eyes lock.

For a moment, no words are needed, as Charlotte brings her ballad to a tearful end. The applause goes up, but the butler fails to join in and gets to his feet, slamming the glass down on the table, not budging his gaze for a second, until he quickly he turns and leaves the merriment behind. Flora, suddenly feeling obvious, blinks back the tears and smiles, giving Charlotte a rather late applause for her gentle singing as she watches Jarvis exit the room. His heart filled with sadness, realising that that had probably been the last look of love they would ever encounter, she glances at the clock and rises herself.

Flora announcing to the puzzled servants, only glancing at Felix: Goodness, is that the time? I should retire now I think, and unfortunately I have somewhat of a headache coming on. Don't mind me, carry on with the party, and the cheese rolling.

She turns to Grace, gently cupping her face in her hands and smiling

Flora tears reforming, genuinely sad to be leaving her friends – and what she considered her family – behind: Thank you, Grace for a wonderful evening and for the presents. I will truly miss you, all of you.

Outside, Jarvis has lit up his last cigar, which he puffs on gently as he walks along to the ornamental pond. Halfway there he stops, staring at the stars and sighing deeply, playing with the ring box in his pocket, before continuing on his path.

Flora wandered out of the party and up towards her room, she knew the excuse of a headache did not fool Felix as she had caught his raised eyebrow and enquiring glance before she had left. Sighing she realised it would only be a matter of minutes before he came out to check up on her, he still worried she would do something drastic and so had barely left her side since her accident. Sitting down on her bed she glanced round her room, everything was practically packed; she had only left out the essentials and the book. Shaking her head she wondered why she just didn't throw the damn thing away, why did she persist in torturing herself so. It was a link to her past not her future, Walter Corey had made it plain on several occasions he cared nothing for her or their child. If he cared even a little wouldn't he have managed on today of all days to speak to her alone, to put aside his male pride and ask her to stay?

Getting to her feet Flora grasped the book determinedly and walked over to the fire intending to throw in the little picture book and with it burn her bridges to the past. But she couldn't, her hand tightened around the book and she clasped it to her chest as tears welled in her eyes. When she was in Prussia this would be all she had to remember him by, the only link their child would have to his real father. Wiping her tears away determinedly she decided that it would be best if she put the book away for the time being, somewhere where she couldn't happen to stumble across it, then in a few years when things were more settled and she had dealt with her grief, she could bring it out and share it with their child. Felix! She could give the book to Felix, he could put it in his trunk and that way she wouldn't see it but she'd know it would be safe. Satisfied that this was the best thing to do, Flora left her room and wandered down the hallway to Felix's.

She knocked gently; the light inside was on so she knew he must either be in there or somewhere nearby. Slowly she opened the door and went to sit at his desk, waiting patiently for his return. After what seemed like ages she started to yawn, maybe it would best to leave the book in here with a note, after all she had no idea how long he would be. Opening his writing desk, Flora pulled out one of the drawers to find some paper, it was thus whilst glancing for some that she spotted the open letter and recognised the handwriting. Curious as to what Walter felt was so serious he had to communicate to Felix through a letter, she reached in and brought out the whole package. Only one of the letters had been opened, that was the one addressed to Felix, however there was another, there was no addressee but the letter had been sealed properly. Then underneath them both was a medium sized package, expertly wrapped but again no addressee. This was extremely puzzling, and anxious to know what was going on Flora turned to the open letter for answers.

Felix,  
Despite our current estrangement, due to what I consider unforgivable behaviour on your part, I must regretfully beg your assistance in a matter that is of the utmost importance to me. Tomorrow you will be leaving Taplows with the only two things in the world I truly love, and it is with regard to these two persons that I must ask three favours of you.

Take care of her for me; don't let anything that it is in your power to prevent, from harming her, and if possible try to make her happy. Secondly as to the package I have entrusted to your care, it is a gift for Flora to celebrate the day of our child's birth and god willing a safe delivery. It is up to you whether you tell her who it is from, however even if you choose not to declare my identity please respect my wishes as to the day and purpose of the gift.

The last favour I ask of you I do so tentatively. I am not aware as to your and Flora's plans regarding my child's upbringing, whether you intend to tell it the truth about it's heritage or whether you intend to raise it as your own offspring. However if you do tell them the truth I have enclosed a letter for them, which I entrust to your safekeeping until they are of age. I understand that my current behaviour towards you will not entreat you to carry out my requests, however I appeal to your honour as a gentleman to put your own personal feelings aside and carry them out as I have written.

Yours Sincerely,  
Walter Corey.

Flora sat there stunned the letter falling from her hand into her lap, who the hell did Walter Corey think he was? How could he say to her face that he cared nothing for her, yet here in his letter claim to love both her and their child? Determined to know everything, Flora grasped the other letter, hesitating momentarily, after all it was not meant for her to read, before ripping it open.

My Child,  
I know that it must sound strange to hear a man you've never met, probably never heard mentioned call you that, but the truth remains that you are my child. I hope that you can learn to accept the truth and be content with it, and that this revelation has not caused you undue distress or pain, I would be willing to cease to exist if that is what you desired.

The truth is that I have loved you ever since I learnt of your creation, you are the only offspring I will ever have, as I loved your mother above any other person I have ever met and I can not see that changing in my life time. Although you have been raised abroad, and probably look upon Prussia and your Prussian relatives as being your roots your home, you do have my blood flowing in your veins.

It is thus about this family this heritage that I wish to speak, it is important for everyone to know where they come from, it is as important a part of ourselves and our self-identity as the colour of our eyes. If I had had the chance to raise you myself then this I would have taught you amongst many other things. However I have no choice but to narrate in this letter the most important elements of our shared history ……..

Flora couldn't read any more she folded back up the letter the other pages remained untouched, the tears that had welled in her eyes fell silently down her cheeks. How could she do this to him? Take his only child so far away; deny it this family history and identity that Walter obviously prized so highly. He loves me, he really loves me, she thought glancing back at the first passage, 'above anyone else in the world'!

Suddenly she got to her feet displacing the package that sat on her lap and it fell to the floor with a dull thump, she paused half way to the door, surely it couldn't hurt to take a quick peek, after all at least this was meant for her. Picking up the parcel she placed it on top of Felix's desktop and carefully removed the wrapping, on lifting the box lid she saw the shawl, nestled in the protective crepe paper. She gasped and tentatively reached out on hand to touch the soft silk and the exquisitely fine beading. There was no way he could have gotten this in England, he would have to have ordered it from abroad, either via a friend or from one of those ridiculously expensive couturiers in London.

She picked it up and placed it round her shoulders walking over to Felix's glass to admire it on her, she picked up a corner and rubbed the silk against her cheek smiling at his taste and thoughtfulness. Then she caught a trace of something, pulling the shawl off her shoulders, she brought it up to her face and breathed in the scent that clung to it. Finally she released the breath she had been holding, it was his aftershave, had he too held this shawl close, thinking of her on one of the many nights they had been estranged, all alone in his room with no one to comfort him. That was the last straw, she couldn't do it. There was no way she could leave for Prussia in the morning not knowing what she did now. All those times he had been horrible to her it was just to protect himself, to pretend to both her and himself that he wasn't as vulnerable as he obviously was. He needed her and their child, without them all he had was this bleak existence of servitude to look forward to, and she wouldn't in her selfishness condemn him to that. Determinedly she marched towards the door, grasping the letter from the bureau. She was just about to fling the door open wide when someone else beat her to it and in stepped Felix.

"Flora?" Felix asked, a look of surprise and confusion evident on his face, then his gaze fell on the open bureau and the letter clutched tightly in Flora's fist and he smiled.

"I wouldn't usually condone such behaviour, after all opening other people's mail is a criminal offence…"

"I am sorry Felix, I didn't mean to pry but once I started, then I just had to know everything!" She exclaimed walking over to him and taking his hands in hers.

"I take it this development will prevent my family and I from enjoying your company in Prussia?" He asked seriously.

Flora smiled, "I hope so Felix, I really do!"

Felix looked up and gazed intently at her for a few minutes, for the first time in weeks she actually looked like the woman he used to know, her joy and happiness was obvious to all and for the first time he understood why the term glowing and radiant was so often applied to expectant mothers. He opened his arms and drew her in for a hug, after a few minutes he released her leaning forward and placing a kiss on her forehead before opening the door and ushering her out, "Go find him, and please for my sake be happy!"

"I will, I mean we will I promise, I promise!" She yelled happily back over her shoulder as she picked up her skirts and dashed downstairs to find the butler.

Meanwhile outside Jarvis was pacing up and down by the ornamental pond going over and over in his mind the speech he had prepared. He had tried all day to work up the courage to catch Flora alone and tell her what was what, but every time he had worked up his nerve and marched along to her office she was either not there or had company. He knew now that tonight was his last chance, and everything depended on the success of this last attempt, if he failed then Flora and any chance for their family was lost forever. He had just taken the last drag on his cigar, his mind wandering to memories of Flora bashing the living bells out of Catherine Stanwick whilst wading waist deep in the water when he heard the soft tread of lady's footsteps on gravel. He whirled around and saw Flora standing there watching him, the light from the moon reflected in her eyes and twinkling in her jewellery and for a moment he was struck dumb by her beauty. He was brought back to reality when she started towards him her mouth opening to speak.

"Stop right there!" Jarvis bellowed, a little louder than he had planned but it had the desired affect as Flora stopped dead in her tracks a look of complete confusion on her face. Adams was right, for once, she did manipulate him, just look at the effect her beauty had on him, striking him dumb, him a grown man silenced by a pretty face. It was time he took control of both himself and the situation. Jarvis walked briskly towards her and gently but firmly seized her arm, walking them deeper into the gardens and further from the house.

When they were out of sight he released her and indicated she should sit on one of the many benches that were placed along the garden wall. Flora complied but once more started to speak, "Walter….."

"Not another word!" Jarvis warned her, holding up his hand indicating she should stop this instant. He turned and paced a few feet along the path then turned back, pacing backwards and forward in front of her. After a few moments he stopped and turned to face her once more.

"I think it's about time I put my foot down, I have been remarkably lenient with you so far! I thought it would be best if you came to realise yourself what a folly this moving to Prussia would be, but here we are the night before you leave and still you are obstinately refusing to admit you are wrong. If this stubbornness on your part is due to some misguided notion that I will suddenly give in and beg you on hands and knees to stay then you are wrong, so if you were holding out for some over the top romantic gesture let me save you the bother. It will not happen, I am not going to sacrifice my pride and dignity by begging anything from you!" Walter paused and gazed over at Flora, he had expected at least an indignant outcry or maybe a few tears, but instead all he received was an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. She doesn't believe me he thought; well I'll just have convince her.

"I am the man in this relationship, it is for me to make the decisions and I will not be forced into anything by a woman. I think it's about time you accepted the reality of your situation and what is expected of you! You are not going to Prussia in the morning! I refuse to permit it, that is my child and I'll be damned if anyone but me raises it, it will be born and raised a Corey or not at all!" Jarvis paused gasping for breath and tried to calm himself, this wasn't good he was not supposed to raise his voice or loose his temper. After a few moments he began again, this time in a quiet and even yet determined voice. "You have a duty to both me and our child to marry me and learn to be a proper wife, none of this running off to the continent rubbish and helping Felix run a restaurant! After all what self-respecting man would allow his wife to work, not when there is a family to raise, if he can't afford to support them without their earnings then he has no right to be having one at all." Jarvis sighed he was getting sidetracked, Flora's silence and widening smile was unnerving him more then any of her rantings. Why wasn't she harrumphing and trying to interrupt, asserting those forceful opinions of hers? Surely she must realise he was serious, or did she think so little of him that she thought he was incapable of carrying out his word.

The idea of her laughing at him, made him madder than anything else, she doesn't believe me he thought; well this should convince her of the seriousness of my intentions. Jarvis stormed over to her and grasping her roughly dragged her out of the chair and into his arms. He reached into his pocket and drew out the box, opening it with his free hand he picked out the ring and forced it onto her nearest finger, before grasping her face and kissing her firmly. Dazed Flora barely resisted, allowing him to kiss and caress her, but things had moved so suddenly she didn't know what to think. One moment she was sitting there smiling away at Walter's posturing, he was so attractive when he got it into his head to be all dominating and moody the next she was being kissed passionately and didn't she now have a ring on her finger?

After a few minutes the necessity to come up for air prevailed and Walter relinquished her mouth begrudgingly, pulling slightly away he tried to gage her reaction, but she looked only dazed, impatient he asked, "Well do we have an understanding, or is it going to be necessary for me to kidnap you?"

Slowly Flora glanced down at her right hand the stone twinkled in the moonlight, she only wished it was lighter so she could tell what it was. Typical she thought he can't even get the right hand, so she reached down and removed it from her finger handing it back to him. She looked up and saw his face fall, he thought she was refusing him, she couldn't let this happen again and so quickly raised her left hand pointing with her right to the correct finger.

"What I don't understand?" Jarvis muttered confused backing away from her.

"I'm not confused!" Flora replied quietly, putting her hand into her pocket and drawing out his letter, "I think I understand everything now!" She added handing it over to Jarvis.

Jarvis accepted the scrunched letter and recognised it immediately, "How did you?….You had no right! That was private, it was important, my insurance for our child there are things that they need to know….."

"Yes there are!" She countered, closing the gap between then, "and you can tell them whenever you want, be it when they get up in the morning or when you tuck them in a night! And who knows in a few years time maybe they'll have a little brother or sister and then you can tell them as well!"

Suddenly Jarvis realised what she was saying and he reached out brushing his hand down her face as he gazed lovingly into her eyes, before drawing her close. After a few minutes she tapped him on the shoulder and he released her slightly so they could stand comfortably nose-to-nose.

"Yes?" Jarvis asked happily.

"Are you forgetting something?" Flora asked playfully, unlocking her arms from around his neck and waving her ringless left hand around in the air.

Laughing Jarvis caught her hand with his own and reaching down into his pocket where he had in his haste stashed the ring. For a moment he couldn't find it and the panic must of shown on his face, "Oh no you don't Walter Corey don't tell me you've gone and lost another ring?"

Finally his fingers closed around the tiny item, it had slipped through a hole in his seam and had ended up in the lining of his waistcoat. Victorious he withdrew it with a flourish and saw her smile light up in delight, "Now which finger was it? He asked teasingly, pulling her back into his arms, luxuriating in the feel and smell of holding her so close.

Flora raised her eyebrow and held out her left hand onto which he expertly slid the ring onto the correct finger. "So what happens now?" Flora asked obviously curious as to his plans for future.

"Oh something will turn up!" He replied teasingly, laughing as she rolled her eyes at his pun, "Believe me love," he added, "I have something special in mind." 

At this rather suggestive question, Flora raised a knowing, if slightly sceptical eyebrow, comprehending precisely what Jarvis was implying. For a split second she hesitated, as the sheer significance of the moment, but on remembering what she had said to Will the previous day, looked wantonly at the hand he had offered to her. She had told the young under-butler to pursue his dreams, that anything he truly wanted was worth fighting for, and as this was EVERYTHING she had ever wanted, she seized the opportunity with both hands (literally). No sooner had their palms met, than Jarvis was taking her whole arm, linking it with his own, leading her into a moonlit stroll back towards the house, him showing off, pointing out a few constellations, though assuring her that not even the North Star glistened as brightly as her eyes did right now.

As they neared the servants quarters, the sound of their colleagues rejoicing and having a wonderful time (as was the tradition at Taplow's below stairs parties), filled the air. However, at that very moment, the combined excitement of those inside, could not match a fraction of that felt by these two, as they strode in tandem through the courtyard. Suddenly Flora stopped and looked over her left shoulder at the laundry and pantry windows which let out a glow of light, coming from the Resident's Hall, and they listened to the raucous laughter streaming through the open windows. Briefly she sighed in utter elation. However, this was not allowed for more than a few seconds by Jarvis who, unwilling to let her 'exquisite' face out of his sight, gently seized her chin, manoeuvring her head to face him, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. In response, she nuzzled the underside of his chin with her nose, in a figure-of-eight motion, at which he lowered his head, it coming to rest at her eyelevel, and didn't alter this for a considerable amount of time.

As she had her back to the windows, she stared into his eyes, his pupils narrowed, but his crystal blue irises lit up, her own flickering between his two. They were only stopped when she felt him squeeze her hand tightly, before leading her passed the servants' entrances, and into the main body of the house. He practically dragged her through the hallways, all the way, repeatedly glancing over his shoulder to check that she was still there. Each time he did so, her smile widened a little, and her giggles evolved into joyful laughter. But, when they reached the foot of the grand staircase, she managed to break free, professing "Walter, what are we doing! What if someone sees!"

"Flora my darling, no one will see us, as their all at your non-leaving (he still couldn't believe his luck in saying that) leaving party!" he exclaimed, adding in defiance as he walked up a few steps "And besides, even if they did, I for one couldn't care less!"

Momentarily Flora stayed grounded to her step, still worrying "But someone wi-"  
Before she had chance to finish, he held out his hand once more, asking "Do you trust me?"

"Well I-"

"Do you trust me!" he pleaded, his brow furrowing just slightly.

This time there was no hesitation, as she answered confidently "Implicitly". At this, she snatched his hand, and to his delighted surprise, marched straight passed his step, taking the lead herself. By the middle section of the stairs, Jarvis had caught up, and the pair walked up the remaining steps side-by-side, arm-in-arm, gazing into each other's eyes. When they reached the top, Flora was a little apprehensive as to which way to turn, but Jarvis knew exactly where he was taking them, he had known about this place for some time, and was saving it for such an occasion. Consequently, he resumed control over the navigation once again.

Unbeknown to most of the staff, and Taplow's premiere residents alike, for the last few months of his courtship with Ms Harrows, the Earl had secretly refurbishing a number of rooms in the west wing, in Gwen's honour. Despite the rather premature departure of the young 'lady', his lordship had been most insistent on the completion of the project he had commissioned. However, since this, no one (even those who knew about them) had dared enter, as the Earl could not bring himself to set foot in any of them. This chain of (non) events was now broken, as Jarvis unlocked the door, and invited Floras to step inside 'ladies first', himself following immediately afterwards. At first, Flora felt quite disorientated, and was a little unsure what to make of this new room, as they found themselves in pitch darkness. The soothing light of the stars was concealed behind the huge, thick curtains which hung at the windows.

Jarvis, kissing Flora's hand before disappearing into the darkness, instinctively walked to each of the four corners of the room, in each lighting one of the beautiful Italian lamps, which the Earl had ordered specially.

However, after the second was lit, Flora became mesmerised by the fine fabric covered walls, dark red velour, which she couldn't resist reaching out to touch. It was so soft that she caressed it for a moment, marvelling at the detail. She was disturbed in the process by Walter, who emerged behind her, threading his arms around her waist, and whispering playfully in her ear "Close your eyes and turn around" She did so with his help, but he soon noticed her eyelashes flickering and quickly placed his hands over her eyes, scolding her with a humorous "No peaking!"

With a sigh, Flora conceded, "Alright, Alright", closing her eyes tightly, wrinkling her nose up to emphasise that. At this, he smiled to himself and for the next minute or so just stood there in awe, watching her relaxed face in the gentle light. Her impatience getting the better of her, the housekeeper cried "Surely I can open them now!"

This managed to stir Jarvis from his trance-like state, as he announced proudly, though with a hint of a giggle ""Yes my love, you certainly can."

Whatever Flora had been expecting, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she now beheld. Indeed, it literally took her breath away. "Oh Walter!" She gasped, turning quickly to look at him, before her eyes fixed forward, as she drew her hand to her now open mouth.

There, in the middle of the room was the most glorious of traditional four-poster beds. As she staggered toward it quite overcome, she leant her hand firmly on the butler's arm, for much needed support. She could see that the drapes and the bedclothes were identical to the colours of the walls, but were rimmed and embroidered in what appeared to be (and on closer inspection, turned out to be) genuine gold thread. On lightly running her free hand over the sheets, she was amazed to discover that they were made of pure silk. At this realisation, her conscience finally caught up with her - could they really do this in what was (presumably) to be the Earl's marriage bed? The answer was crystal clear to her when she turned to look at Walter, who hadn't been able to tear his eyes away, after seeing her euphoric response to this most perfect of settings. However, their surroundings could no distract them any longer, as they titled their heads in unison, and tenderly locked lips, in an all consuming kiss.

As things progressed, the butler reached down, and carefully scooped up his reason for being, as though she weighed no more than a feather, before slowly lowering her onto the previously untouched bed. He rested her head (which was still firmly attached to his own) gently onto one of the goose-feathered pillows.

When he reluctantly withdrew, she smiled a deliriously happy smile, as he clambered, somewhat nervously onto the bed beside her. Like the gentleman he had always endeavoured to be, he waited for a second for permission before advancing on top of her, when this was granted most willingly. Suspended above her, he took her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, pushing them far above her head. She wriggled beneath him slightly, raising both her eyebrows and gave a sultry smile, he lowered his head, resting his forehead on hers, at which they both breathed in deeply through their noses. This coincidence invoked a giggle from both parties but when Walter pulled away ever-so-slightly, they were locked in each others gaze, and the laughter stopped.

When she could hold back no longer, Flora wrenched her head from the pillow, kissing him hungrily, with such force that it caused him to roll over slightly, until they both lay on their sides. On coming up for air, he drew her into a fierce hug, which, more than likely, didn't do her circulation the power of good. At this very moment though, that factor was of secondary concern as they had both totally surrendered themselves, neither prepared to let the other go, not for a second. Confession time was not over yet for Jarvis, as he whispered breathlessly, between placing kisses on her neck "I've missed you SO much!"

Flora prised him off her, holding his shoulders, "Me too, like you wouldn't believe" She ran her hands up and down the front of his now infamous waistcoat, breathing heavily, and swept away by the emotion pleaded "Lets never speak of it again!"

As she shook her head vigorously, a small whisp of hair found its way free. Jarvis moved to ammend this immediately, brushing it from her cheek. He reached up and released her hair grip, continuing his hand, tracing the outline of her body. Both pairs of eyes followed his hand, but when it reached her waist, she grasped it in her own, and both looked up into each others eyes, their breath caught in their throats.

After less than a second Flora squeezed his hand and drew it further around her back, pulling him back on top of her. To show his appreciation, he too pulled her towards him, running his hands across her back, kissing her with unrestrained passion. Finally, he came to rest just next to her, his head on her chest, where it remained for sometime. The pair thought to themselves that this, and no where else in the entire world was where they most wanted to be, where they belonged.

As they had not spoken, let alone moved for a few minutes, Flora became a little anxious and tried, in vain, to haul herself up, discovering that Walter had in fact managed to fall asleep on her. Far from being put out at this, she placed a loving peck on the crown of his head, whispering "I love you", before sighing deeply to herself, as she looked up at the ceiling, placing her head back on the pillow. She continued to caress his soft hair, staring (unbelievably considering recent events) at the unspeakably beautiful ring he had finally managed to get onto her finger, and indeed, onto the correct finger! As she did so, it occurred to her that Walter's right hand was resting protectively on her stomach, the most reassuring and equally overwhelming eventuality, the thought of which brought tears to her eyes, and did not escape her mind, until she too drifted off. It was there that the two lovers slept silently, cradled in each others arms, at long last.

He awoke early, finding himself hanging off the edge of the four-poster, still fully clothed except for his shoes which he had kicked off just before...before...

Jarvis fumbling for his pocket watch: Oh damn!

He remembers instantly, looking over at a sleeping Flora, also still fully dressed. Flopping back onto his pillow, he sighs heavily and rubs his chin. How could he have fallen asleep right in the middle, or more like right at the beginning, of performing his manly duty? Embarrassing fool! He chides himself, damn that Adams for making him drink and tiring him out! Although, he concedes, studying Flora's beauty, he has in fact a lot to thank Andrew Adams for, in making him see sense and teaching him to go after what you want before it is too late. He smiles lovingly and in wonderment at Flora's sleeping form - she is lying on her back, her face towards him and left arm up and resting gently against her pillow, the ring still firmly on her finger. Slowly and quietly, he decides it is probably time to wake her from her slumber, especially if he is to have time to make up for the previous night, so he leans over her and nuzzles and kisses her cheek and temple, carefully beginning to unbutton the front of her dress. She stirs, moaning slightly, as she opens her eyes to see him next to her. For a second she smiles sleepily, but then a naughty grin spreads across her face as she pushes his wandering hand away from her.

Flora sitting up: Er, I don't think so, Walter Corey!

Jarvis expression crumpling into one of disappointment: Why ever not?

Flora feigning anger as she stands and brushes down her skirts: I think you know very well why not!

Jarvis gulping, voice ever so slightly high pitched: Is this about last night?

Flora hands on hips and glaring at him, but really desperate to laugh: Too right it is! What sort of husband will you make if you fall asleep every time!

Flora turns away from him, her face in her hands. Make him suffer for just a little bit longer, she thinks.

Jarvis reaching out to her: I'm sorry! This isn't what it's going to be like, I can assure you! You're very...very sexually pleasing, Flora, you KNOW I think that! Do you not want me now? Am I too...too...I don't know...inadequate?

She decides it is time to put him out of his misery, so turns to him, the cheeky grin and sparkle in her eye returning. He stares at her for a second or two, before it dawns on him. Smiling at his own foolishness for letting her out-wit him, he tugs off his jacket, leaps off the bed and runs around it to catch her, as she giggles girlishly. She manages to climb over the bed and to the other side to escape, but still he doesn't give up

Flora waving a hand playfully at him as she runs from one side to the other: Oh Walter, stop being childish!

Jarvis raising his eyebrow naughtily: I think, Flora my dear, it is you who started the childishness with your silliness, so if you want to play games! I'm going to catch you!

Flora laughing so hard tears flowed down her cheeks: Stop it! This is no way for a respectable butler like yourself to behave!

But she is too late, as he catches her by her ankle as she climbs over the bed for the third time. She lets out a little yelp as he pulls her down, swiftly climbing on top of her and pinning her down by her arms as she giggles softly.

Jarvis kissing her nose, his voice sultry: You're right, this certainly isn't any way for a respectable butler, or an equally well respected housekeeper, to behave.

Flora returning the kiss and pushing her hands firmly up inside his waistcoat before slowly unbuttoning it: Well, isn't that what makes it all the more fun, Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis planting small kisses on her throat: Indeed you are correct, Mrs Ryan.

Flora runs her fingers through his hair as she unbuttons his shirt, as his lips come up to meet hers before wandering down her neck and across her shoulders as her dress loosens

Jarvis running his fingers down the bones of her exposed corset before placing kisses on her forehead, nose, lips and chin I think kiss, no in fact I know kiss we are going to be very kiss, very kiss, VERY kiss late for breakfast.

An hour later and the majority of the Senior staff were gathered round the dining room table for breakfast. However there were two notable exceptions, both the butler and housekeeper were missing, and as the meal progressed the valets exchanged at first bemused and then gradually more amused glances. Mrs Diggins had sat next to Mr Kraus, who far from being a fountain of information regarding the missing pair had barely spoke more than two words together, concentrating on demolishing his last Taplow's meal rather then exchanging pleasantries with his fellow servants. This proved too much for Mrs Diggins to handle, and as the chef got up to leave, she practically bounded out of her seat and followed him out of the dining room and into his kitchen.

Felix realised at once that she had followed him, but chose to ignore his new shadow in favour of a last minute prowl round his kitchen ensuring that he had left no small yet vital piece of his own equipment behind. After a few minutes she could contain herself no longer, "Mr Kraus!"

Felix whirled round, the fake surprised smile looking comical on his face, and some of the kitchen maids, Lizzie included had to cover their mouths to stifle their giggles. "Yes Mrs Diggins, how can I possibly be of assistance this fine autumn morning?"

The sarcasm was dripping from every word, but if Mrs Diggins noticed she chose to ignore it.

"How is Mrs Ryan this morning, I noticed she missed breakfast, I do hope she will be well enough to travel?" Mrs Diggins asked, her obvious interest in the location of Mr Jarvis remained unsaid.

"I have no idea, I haven't seen her this morning! But I wouldn't worry yourself unduly Mrs Diggins, I do believe I have it on good authority that Mrs Ryan will not be accompanying me to Prussia, either today or anytime in the future!"

"But, but…." Mrs Diggins stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence fast enough.

"Well if that is all? After all I do have a journey to prepare for, and other goodbyes to say!" And with that Felix turned and walked quickly out of the kitchen, but not before winking cheekily at an ecstatic Lizzie who stood by the door her hands clasped in delight.

As soon as Kraus had left she gathered her petticoats and ran as fast as she could to the lower servants hall, where the rest of the maids were clearing away the remains of breakfast. She ran over to Grace and practically dragged her outside.

"Lizzie!" Grace yelled somewhat put out at having her arm almost pulled from its socket, "What is it?"

As soon as they rounded the stable courtyard Lizzie stopped dead and Grace ploughed into her. "Don't be angry!" Lizzie pleaded. "I just heard the most amazing news and I wanted to tell you first!"

Grace folded her arms across her chest, her expression told Lizzie that this had better to be good to make up for man handling her like that.

"Mrs Ryan isn't going!"

"What?" Grace gasped.

"Kraus is still going, but she's staying, which means that her and Mr Jarvis must have made up last night!"

"Are you sure?" Grace asked, a frown on her face, "couldn't she just have decided she didn't want to go all the way to Prussia?"

"No, I'm sure! It was the way Chef said it, and neither or them made breakfast this morning I heard Mrs Diggins say so and no one else has seen hide nor hair of them since last night, when they both left the party early! What's more Kraus seems pleased, he even winked at me when he left the kitchen, he wouldn't have done that if everything wasn't alright now would he?"

Grace smiled, "you're right he wouldn't! But what do we do, do we keep it a secret or tell people?"

"Well," Lizzie added a sly smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, "I think people will find out soon enough, I mean when she doesn't get in the carriage with him, so why spoil their surprise for them!"

Grace nodded her agreement, why spoil it indeed.

An hour later and the majority of the staff were gathered in the servants' courtyard preparing to wave off both their chef and housekeeper. However rumours were flying around the assembled crowd, someone had heard from one of the kitchen maids that the plans had changed, another was saying that the housekeeper and butler had disappeared during the night. Others were dismissing this as nonsense, that there could be perfectly legitimate reasons for the absences. A few minutes later and Mr Kraus appeared bag in hand and instructed Johnny on the correct order for storing his bags.

Meanwhile inside two very red faced and ecstatic members of the senior staff had just dashed all the way downstairs. It had been a close run thing as both had needed to pop back to their rooms to change, it would be unthinkable for both to appear in public wearing their clothes from the night before. Walter had finished first and tapped on Flora's door and she had called for him to enter, he had to stifle his laughter as she was standing in her corset and petticoats searching manically through one of her many previously neatly packed trunks. Walking over to her he slid his hands round her waist, "Now what is going on here? You're supposed to be dressing not redecorating!" He quipped indicating the clothes slung carelessly and abandoned over the floor, dresser and desk.

"If you're not going to be helpful, then you can wait outside Walter Corey!" She added firmly, pushing away his encircling arms and continuing her search.

Puzzled Walter shook his head and sat down on one of the closed trunks, "Flora you have dozens of dresses just pick one!"

Exasperated Flora pushed him off the trunk and began to rummage through it, "Yes I do have dozens of dresses, however I would thought that after this morning you might of realised that some of them will no longer fit me in my present condition!"

"Ahhhhhhh." Jarvis replied suddenly realising the reason for her panic, "So which dress are we looking for?"

"Its dark blue with little cream flowers on it, its one of the few I've be able to alter and let out a little at the waist."

"Does it have lace at the neckline?" He asked amused.

"Yes, why?" She snapped, not amused at his flippancy over something so important.

"Because it's hanging up on the back of your door!" He added, handing over the dress and helping the now embarrassed Flora into it.

They just made down to the courtyard in time, Felix had been pacing up and down in front of his carriage for a good five minutes and had finally given up on them, turning his back to get into his carriage; feeling must put out that his two closest friends had not even bothered to come and wave him off after everything he had done for them.

"Felix wait!" Flora called out, as her and Jarvis strode across the courtyard, her arm on his and the rest of the staff parted like the red sea to allow them through.

Will turned to Lizzie elbowing her, "Well that's a turn up for the books, and Jarvis wins the title match! I bet you didn't see that coming did you Liz?" He added goading the young maid.

"Oh didn't I?" She replied under her breath, turning and smiling mockingly at the under-butler's confused expression. Will was about to reply, but instead the conversation of the senior staff caught his attention.

"Felix." Jarvis said cordially, "It has been a pleasure serving with you." He added extending his hand to the former chef, which Kraus didn't hesitate to grasp firmly in a handshake, before pulling the surprised butler in for a quick hug. After a few moments he released the stunned Jarvis and turned to Flora who was standing next to him.

"Flora!" He said simply, opening his arms into which she practically flung herself squeezing him tight. "Please be happy, you both have each other, just from now on talk about your problems don't ignore them." He whispered into her ear.

"I promise!" Flora replied as he released her, turning to the gathered crowd.

"Goodbye my friends, let us hope we may all see each other again at some point in the future." He cried out to his former colleagues, before removing his hat and getting into his waiting carriage.

Suddenly he leant out the window and handed a book over to Mrs Ryan, "Flora my dear I do believe this is yours!"

Flora grasped her Italy book in one hand and slipped her other onto Walter's arm, "Felix Kraus how are we ever going to be able to repay you?"

Felix frowned slightly, before his mouth twitched in a small smile and he pointed causally at Flora's stomach, "Well you could make me a godparent?" And with that comment and a small wave, the carriage pulled away and made its way out of the courtyard and up the lane away from Taplows. As Kraus' carriage rolled up the winding drive, through the magnificent parkland, it was only the Butler and his beloved Housekeeper who remained standing on the gravel in front of the house, as the lower servants had all scurried back inside in dribs and drabs. Although her hand had not moved from his arm, their eyes had remained fixed on the carriage, as a mark of respect to the colleague whom they would sorely miss.

However, when the coach disappeared from view, Flora turned to him, drawing him into a lustful gaze, but resisting temptation, asked him in a most prim and proper tone "Shall we return to the house, Mr Corey?"

This raised an affectionate smile, as he took her hand, gently kissing it before, looking up from her hand and replying "But of course, Mrs Corey … to be." At this, he linked her left arm with his right, caressing the hand on which his ring glistened, and as they strolled back to the house, Flora thought just how much she liked the sound of him calling her that.

Unbeknown to both, Lizzie had not followed the rest back downstairs, instead, she stood in the courtyard, her head poking around the large stone wall just enough so she could see the two, and not be seen herself. She watched their every move until it became imperative that she should move, as not to be discovered snooping. But, as she turned to do so, she was met with the sight of Will striding back over the courtyard toward her. As under-butler, he had to ensure that on returning to the house, the staff were aware of what they had to do with their day. On doing so, he noticed that Lizzie wasn't present, but after a lucky guess, he had been able to locate her swiftly.

"Liz, can we have a word?" he enquired tentatively

As he continued, so did she, with the same line "I'm sorry about yesterday" they chimed in unison. They found this coincidence most amusing, both letting out a little laugh, shaking their heads, and looking down to the ground, the symmetry continuing.  
As they looked up, they caught each others eyes, but the moment was untimely spoiled as they heard Mr Jarvis and Mrs Ryans' playful laughter approaching.

Quickly, not wanting to be caught dawdling on duty by the pair, Will whispered desperately to Lizzie "Can see you later?" taking her by her upper arms.

"For another row?" she teased

"No, I should bloody well hope not!"

They smiled at each other for a split second, Lizzie nodding, before he grabbed her arm, pulling her into the nearest entrance. Standing just behind the door they had quickly closed behind them, Will asked again, just to check.

"Yes, now go on!" she ensured him, waving him off on his way

Cut to the kitchen, where in Mr Kraus' absence, there was a lot needing to be done. However, at that moment, very little could be percieved to have been done, as as usual, the lower servants were working to their own timetable, which, as usual, involved a lengthily period of gossiping. Charlotte and Grace were at present hiding in the cold storage room, where George was ferrying the freshly delivered meat in from the supplier's cart.

"I can't believe those two, how longs it going to last this time!" Charlotte quipped, referring to Flora and Jarvis.

"I've got a feeling about this time-" Grace started with an excited glint in her eye

"You said that last time!" Charlotte reminded her, with a sceptical look.

"Oh Charlie!" Grace mused, knowing full well Charlotte hated being called by that shortened and rather boyish version of her name. "Don't be such a prude! This time it IS for good. Don't you notice the way they look at each other, her hand resting on his arm, his RING on her finger!" Grace could hardly contain her glee at this last piece of evidence.

Conceding defeat, if only slightly, "Yes I've see the way she looks at him, and after that little speech of hers about 'men are not the same as us', I think its all a bit hypocritical."

"Oh please!" Grace scoffed. "Drop it Charlie, you want them to be just as happy as the rest of us do, go on admit it!" she challenged, walking toward her fellow maid, causing the defendant to step back a few paces.

Feeling a tad fearful, though not prepared to show it, Charlotte piped up "Well at least he's put a ring on her finger at last, that should hopefully bode well for their souls!"  
After receiving another exasperated look from Grace, she totally melted, "Oh but it is a most beautiful ring is not!" she proclaimed with a heavy sigh.

On seeing George enter the room once more, Grace raised her voice in order to reply "Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe it. Did you see the way it sparkled in the sunlight, certainly caught my eye!" At this, she caught George's eye, at which she received a knowing look.

"Oh I bet it did!" he commented teasingly, though headed straight for the door, a little too scared to hear her retort.

Funnily enough, the next time he entered the room, with Lizzie in tow (who had been enquiring after Grace), his favourite maid once again struck up a conversation over the housekeeper's most admired new piece of jewellery, though she was dying to know what her friend thought of it anyway.

"Liz, did you see it!" Grace questioned excitedly

Lizzie, being a little slower than usual, in deep thought over what Will wanted to talk to her about, didn't give her the reply she had hoped for, instead she just gave Grace a rather puzzled glance.

"I think she means the ring!" George huffed sarcastically as he walked back out the door, leaving them to it.

When George had finished to-ing and fro-ing with the meat delivery, he skulked off round to the stables where the other footmen were painting the wooden doors black. This was done on the insistence of the Earl on his return from London, where he found them to have faded to an ugly shade of grey. Despite his rather precarious financial state, his lordship had professed it to a nothing less than a disgrace to have such a distasteful colour on the stable doors. Though, in order to save some money, he avoided the cost of employing painters, and decided to let his footmen 'earn their keep'. Thus, it was here Fred, Joe, Adams and Johnny had spent the last half an hour or so. However, in which time, the hapless quartet had actually managed to get more paint on themselves than the doors. The worst culprit was poor Johnny, whom on tripping over some of the more raised cobbles, had dropped his paint tin and landed front first into the thick, black paint.

At this Fred and Adams roared with laugher, and though Joe was a little more considerate, but couldn't help sniggering loudly, at which point George arrived and also couldn't hide his amusement. Things went from bad to worse for Johnny, as he was rapped by Fred for turning out to be wrong all along, with regards to Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus. After the events of the previous evening and earlier that morning, Johnny had well and truly lost his only claim to fame. In order to inflate his own ego a little, Adams stepped in, telling them how it was he who finally got the Butler to see sense, thought he didn't go into the particulars of Jarvis' drunken slurs, as he had no desire to be reminded of them himself. At such a revelation George pointed out that he hadn't thought Adams and Jarvis to have been especially close, quite the opposite in fact. Adams admitted this was quite true, but then asked them how else they thought he was going to work his way back to being under-butler. Fred jibbed that he'd have to dry out for more than a few hours IF that was going to happen. Adams ignored this rather childish comment, though duly noted it for when he did indeed seize his job back from William Forrest.

At that moment, the under-butler in question emerged, asking whether anyone had seen Lizzie, claiming Mrs Ryan was looking for her. Initially, his reason stuck, as George told him that last him he'd seen her was with Grace and Charlotte. However, Will's excuse came undone when George continued sarcastically. "Well Mrs Ryan MUST be all loved up, coz it was her who gave Lizzie this afternoon off yesterday!"

In saying this, George hadn't intended to catch Will out as such, but as he clearly wasn't receptive of Fred's sniggers, Will reminded George that he wasn't on painting duty and that the fire in Old Lady Mary's room was in need of a damned good clean, which filled his friend with glee. As Will turned to walk back to the house, George following him, Adams kept a keen and distrusting eye on him, what did he want Lizzie for?

After lunch, which was without any clear leadership in the kitchen a little haphazard, Adams set about refilling the oil lamps throughout the house. Various things are on his mind, including the lack of job security, Jarvis' and Mrs Ryan's future plans, his rather peculiar relationship with Lizzie and his lingering feelings for Rebecca. He has wandered into the Orangery and stands at the spot where he had attacked Mrs Stanwick before she left. He doesn't feel any sort of triumph or glee at her discomfort and terror, but is more disgusted with himself than anything, even if part of him feels she had been asking for it. Shaking his head and frowning, she looks out of the window and sees Lizzie a little way from the house huddled by a tree in her shawl, her head buried in a book and a look of hard concentration on her face. He moves closer to the window, momentarily forgetting his duties, and stares at her - her lips are moving as she recites whatever she is reading, and he concludes that it must be poetry.

He often forgot how lucky he is to have a daughter; certainly one so caring and thoughtful as she seems to be. Well, he smiles to himself, she certainly didn't get that from him. She always reminds him so much of her mother, or what he can remember of her mother anyway. The same hazel eyes and button nose, although her round face is still rather childlike and still needs to mature. But, he thinks, in time she would certainly grow to become like the beauty he had been so fond of 17 years ago.

Lizzie's mother had been the most attractive woman he had ever seen - until he met Rebecca Farquharson, that is. She was the belle of all Scotland, and had filled Adams' heart with joy during his time at Highlands. She would turn heads by just walking into a room, her body was so slender and her smile so engaging that any warm-blooded male would not have been able to take their eyes off her. Her fiery red curly hair would usually be tied up on her head, but she would often let out strands of curls to shape her well structured cheek bones, and her sparkling blue eyes would be so full of energy and love. She could have had any man in Scotland - or in the rest of Britain - if she had wanted. So why did she choose a short, plain-looking under-butler as the object of her affections? He cursed himself for his hard drinking and gambling; asking himself why such a stupid thing had to tear them apart. For a fleeting minute he considers whether he should go back to Highlands, working as anything at all in or around the estate, just to be near her. If he is to loose his job, and a roof over his head, then where else could he go anyway? 

Adams' gaze has never left Lizzie, only his thoughts had, but on considering this possibility he suddenly realises he has a responsibility to his daughter now. He can't leave her...unless she goes with him? As if she is aware of his stare, Lizzie suddenly looks up from her book at straight at Adams, making eye contact for a second or two. Her blank expression creases into a smile, warming Adams' heart, and for the first time he feels such a strong surge of fatherly love towards her that it almost brings tears to his eyes. It is then he notices he's not alone in the room, as Lizzie stops smiling and returns to her book. Turning quickly, a shadow looming over him, he sees Jarvis standing there looking rather sheepish

Adams Snatching up his oil: Sorry sir, getting back to work now, honest...

Jarvis holding up his hands: I, er...saw you as I was going past and hoped I'd catch you alone, I just wanted to, well, you know, say thank you for your advice the other night.

Adams half smiling, looking away: Oh, I don't think you needed me, Mr Jarvis, I'm sure you'd have done the right thing.

Jarvis awkwardly patting him on the arm and turning a little pink: I'm not so sure of that, Mr Adams, I think a drink and a good talking to was what I needed.

Adams grinning and relaxing a little: And as I vaguely remember saying at the time, sir, that wasn't the only good thing you needed...

Jarvis sharply as he rocks on his heels: Yes, thank you Mr Adams, I remember what you said more than I think you do!

Jarvis moves towards the exit so to end the all-in-all rather embarrassing conversation

Jarvis indicating to the oil: Right, back to work Mr Adams if you please, and we've a staff meeting later if you would care to show yourself.

Adams frowns and nods, Jarvis swiftly exiting. He looks over at the tree, but Lizzie has gone and he instinctively begins to worry. That William Forest, what is he up to? He crunched his knuckles slightly, gritting his teeth, vowing that if he lays as much as a finger on his daughter he'd gladly break every bone in the little upstart's body. He sees the way she looks at Forest, with the same longing look her mother used to give him all those years ago. It was there and then that he decides it is time to become a better man and a better father. No more drinking, no more snide remarks, no more slacking off - if he is to see Rebecca again he can't be an embarrassing, drunk, wreck of a man. He wants his job as under-butler back, and if William Forest thinks he can take his only child away from him, then he has more than another thing coming. As he returns to his duties, Adams holds that thought for a moment longer. Yes, that lad had certainly better watch himself.

A few hours later and George had finally finished scrubbing all the dirt off of the old biddies fireplace, he would have been done ages ago but Lady Mary had insisted on sitting by the fire and supervising whilst he worked. It never ceased to amaze George that despite her being over ninety years old and as deaf as a post her eyesight was as sharp as a hawks. Finally he'd managed to meet Lady Mary's high standards and had been allowed to leave with just enough time for him to attend the staff meeting. He dashed down the corridor, walking as fast as he could without breaking out into a run. He has to come to a stop suddenly when a book came hurtling out the open door of the Earl's bedroom, followed quickly by its owner Lady Caroline.

She didn't seem to notice George and yelled back through the doors, "It's all your fault daddy, and I don't care! You've left me no choice I'm going to London tomorrow to stay with Auntie Maud and there is nothing you can say that'll make me change my mind! Stop pretending to be ill, there's nothing the matter with you that you haven't brought on yourself!" And with this she slammed the doors shut and barged past George, a determined look on her face.

Bemused George hurried off and just made it into Jarvis's office in time, as the Butler had just started his spiel, an amused Grace dashed over and opened the door for him before Jarvis could notice him standing by the window waving for someone to let him in.

"What did I miss?" A worried George whispered softly in Grace's ear.

She waited a moment for Jarvis' attention to shift back to the other side of the room before replying, "Not much, apparently Lady Caroline is heading off to London tomorrow!"

"Hmmm," George replied, "Already heard that from the horse's mouth."

Grace turned shooting him a confused glance, but before she could enquire further Mr Jarvis turned his attention to the late arrivals.

"Ahhhhh Mr Cosmo, did you have anything you wished to add?"

"No Mr Jarvis!" George added his eyes trained on the floor.

"Well then from now on maybe you do us the honour of turning up to meetings on time?" Jarvis added his eyebrow raised, but his serious tone was undermined by the tug of a smile at the side of his mouth.

"As I was saying before Mr Cosmo's timely arrival, the lack of staff will mean that everyone will be expected to carry out duties that they would not normally be assigned. We all have to pull our weight in these times of difficulty!" In the back of the room Mr Adams coughed. "Yes Mr Adams?" Jarvis asked.

"I was just wondering sir, how long the current situation is likely to continue? After all none of us mind earning our keep, but we would like to think that in recognition of our extra labour our jobs will be safe?"

Jarvis sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I wish I could guarantee that that is the case Mr Adams, however nothing is at the moment certain and if any of you wish to look for another place I would not discourage you from doing so! That is all I have to say, do you have anything to add Mrs Ryan?"

He turned gazing towards Flora, but she did not answer her gaze remained directed out the window. Jarvis smiled slightly and walked over to her, ignoring the dozens of eyes that now flicked between the pair, most accompanied by a smile. "Mrs Ryan!" He called softly waving his hand in front of her face, as she was obviously miles away.

Suddenly Flora snapped back to the present, and raised a hand quickly to her chest, "Walter that was not funny!" She exclaimed before realising that they were not alone, as she turned and spotted the assembled company, all of whose smiles had turned into broad grins. "I mean Mr Jarvis, what did you say?" she stuttered trying to recover.

Jarvis simply smiled broadly at her shaking his head, "Nothing Mrs Ryan! I was simply asking if you had anything to add?" He asked amused by her suddenly panicked expression. "Anything relating to the current situation, staffing wise?" He prompted.

Flora recovered quickly, "other than the need to tighten our belts supply wise, I have decided to scrap afternoon tea! Breakfast, Dinner and Supper should suffice." She replied noting the shocked and dismayed expression on Walter's face, afternoon tea was the only meal he always managed to make time for. "It is an expensive luxury, its only affect seems to be on the size of the uniforms and that is something we can all do without!" She added, a slight smile on her face as Jarvis and most of the men's reactions was to automatically suck in their stomachs.

"Well!" Jarvis added, trying desperately to maintain his posture whilst addressing the room, "I think that is everything! You should all go back to what you were doing!" He added hastily practically shooing them out the room before turning to Flora his hands on his hips. "So you think I need to lose a few pounds is that it?" He stated seriously.

Flora stood before him and crossed her hands over her chest, "Did I say anything of the sort?" She asked innocently her eyebrow raised.

Walter walked over to her a mischievous expression on his face, and Flora backed up against the wall remembering the last time he had that expression on his face she'd ended up crawling over the Earls marriage bed trying to get away from him. "Walter please!" She started her hands held out in front of her, "remember where we are, your office and anyone can see!" She blurted out darting around his desk towards the door.

Walter waited for a moment before darting forward and stepping in front of her. "You surely don't expect to get away that easy!" He replied grasping her round the waist before sitting down in his fireside easy chair and pulling her down with him till she was perched precariously on his lap and had to fling her arms round his neck to stay there. "So if I'm not going to get any afternoon tea from now on what are you planning to do with me in the afternoons?"

Flora smiled cheekily before leaning down and kissing him quickly, no longer caring about the windows or the staff catching them. "That's sounds like a plan to me!" Jarvis added, winking cheekily, before releasing her. Flora got to her feet and checked hair quickly in the mirror, much to Walter's amusement before sweeping out of the room without another word. Jarvis stretched out in his chair for a moment, smiling to himself, with Lady Caroline gone the house would be virtually empty with few callers giving him time to formalise his plans for his and Flora's departure. Striding over to his desk he pulled out some writing paper and began the belated letter to his mother.

As the lower servants were filling out of Jarvis' office, a rather un-expected hand seized Will's arm as he walked down the corridor toward the nearest flight of stairs. The hand pulled him into a doorway, at which he almost his balance, falling on to the (luckily) closed door to steady himself. As the hand slipped away into the shadow which the doorway cast on one side, his eyes followed in its direction and as he slowly raised his eyelevel he saw to whom the hand belonged just stepping into the light.

His initially defensive sentiment towards whoever had pulled him aside melted away when he saw Lizzie standing in front of him. "Steady on Liz!" he mused with one of his boy-ish cheeky grins, which he still hadn't been able to shake now that he had reached under-butler status.

"Sorry!" Lizzie light-heartedly apologised, with a little snigger. After leaving her father's watchful eye from the orangery, Lizzie had snuck up to the main house library (something she wouldn't normally have done, but as everyone was in the staff meeting and Lady Caroline and the Earl barely ventured out of their rooms as they were hardly on speaking terms, she thought to herself, why not?) She'd finished the last page of her book of poems (which Adams had guessed quite correctly that she was reading), and decided to try a novel this time.

She soon found Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, as she had began to read this in secret at Balmoral, but had the book confiscated from her, as her stuffy traditionalist superiors disapproved of its contents. Consequently, she never got to finish it, never got to see what happened to the seemingly dastardly Heathcliff in the end. However, it was in thinking of his character, one so changeable and quite misunderstood, her thoughts were brought back to the situation with Will's dad, surely he could not be quiet so terrible as he appeared.

Whereas she in no way condoned his acts towards his wife and child, her heart sank to think of what Will's childhood had been, she did however, believe that everyone should have the chance to make amends, or at least try to before it was too late, as not doing so could lead to further unrest. She didn't want Will to end up a tortured soul, so on placing the book back onto the shelf after half an hour or so, she ventured downstairs to find him.

When she did so, she discovered that the staff meeting was still going on, it must've started late she assumed, unless she had misoverheard the start time. For a second, she thought of strolling into the meeting, to ensure that she couldn't miss Will, but on re-thinking the idea of attending a staff meeting on her afternoon off, she decided to wait patiently around the corner, where she had then found him.

"So" Will started rather sheepishly, "Can we have that word now?"

"Just the one you wanted was it!" she teased.

"Well, if that's all the time you can spare me!" he (jokingly) huffed, turning on his heels.

But before he could move a step, Lizzie shot him a 'you don't get away with it that easily' as she took hold for the same arm, turned the door handle, and dragged him into the room. She left him to close the door behind them, as she strode over to the other side of the room, looking purposefully out of the window, informing Will that "Before you start, I have a few things to say too"

Having only partially heard this, instead of waiting to hear what she wanted to express, Will started, before he had chance to stop himself. On closing the door, he had switched onto autopilot to ensure he would not lose his nerve. "Lizzie McDuff, for sometime now I've come to feel for you a … a…" He was struggling, as in his haste, he hadn't actually come up with speech, and now it was crunch time, he desperately didn't want to fumble it. "A deep and caring friendship, one that"

But before he could continue, Lizzie spoke up, nodding her head in agreement "I know, I know"

'Wow, that was easier than Id thought!' Will thought to himself. 'But how could she know, I hadn't made it THAT obvious had I!'

Slipping into reminiscent mode, Lizzie recalled fondly "When I arrived here, it was you and Grace who took me under your wings, helped me through the whole business with my father. And when you trusted me with the truth about yours … I just think …. (smiling) its special that we connect in such a way"

Not knowing quite what to make of this, and despite deeply wanting to voice what he himself had intended to say, Will let her continue.

Seeing that she had his full attention, she decided to pursue her intended course. "I mean, it wasn't easy for me, so I can't imagine what it must be like for you, with things left as … unresolved as they are."

By now Will was beginning to see where this was going, so quickly moved to prevent her from going any further on the matter. "Liz, theres nothing unresolved about it, I told you, its all behind me now" he said quite calmly, but with a hint of anxiety, as he stepped towards her.

"How is it!" she moderately exploded. "Tell me Will, how on earth is it all well and good when your father is but a few miles away?"

"As long as he stays there-"

"So your saying its out of sight, out of mind are you? I think we both know that isn't the case." Lizzie reasoned.

For a few moments, the two just stood there, both with a slight look of anger on their faces, both too stubborn to back down, instead, seemingly trying to stare each other out.

"That theory doesn't work very well does it, as he's not always out of sight, your sight maybe, but not mine!" she reminded him, breaking the ice.

"Well, lets here it (he cried, striding around the room in an exaggerated manner, his left hand on his hip, his right extended towards her as he gave a little bow), what would you have me do my lady?"

Seeing this gesture for the mockery that it was, Lizzie huffed, before calming herself down, as by know she had found out that it was charm and not criticism which won Will over. "I would have you talk to him" she began, but paused at Will's scoff. She gave him an 'at least here me out' stare, before continuing. "Well at least try to converse with him, if only to get him to move on. Don't you see, he's not going to go anywhere until he's seen you"

Will opened his mouth, but before he could reiterate his as long as he keeps away argument, Lizzie carried on, walking over to him, stopping only a few inches away. "I'm not asking that you forgive him, (brushing a lock of his hair back that hung down the centre of his forehead) not even that you tolerate him, (running her fingers through his hair) just that you hear what he seems so determined to tell you (her hands coming to rest on the back of his neck, caressing it gently), so that you really can move on, (looking him straight in the eye) and get on with your life"

A rather large gulp marked his realisation that her persistence was a measure of her commitment to the cause, and that she wouldn't be content until he had done what she was asking, which at that moment in time, he found not as detestable a chore than he had previously thought. "Your not going to let this go are you?" he questioned, as he slid his arms around her waist.

Her face smiling into his, she shook her head slightly and whispered "Not for a second" as she manoeuvred onto her tip toes, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.  
Not a second after her lips left his skin, he drew her into a hug, his head firmly pressed against hers, almost trying to draw the strength he would need to face his father from her touch.

After a few moments, he released her, brushing his hand down her left cheek as he did so. Her eyes flickered between his, before she turned slowly, not loosing eye contact for as long as possible. She opened the door and moved to the other side of it, Will watching he all the way, but turned to peak round it, locking herself in the under-butler's gaze just once more before she returned to her duties.

When she had closed the door, Will was left alone with his thoughts. Had he just missed his chance yet again, or was that embrace confirmation of things moving forward between the two? But whichever it had been, she had made pretty clear that it wouldn't get very far unless he got rid of his pathetic excuse for a parent. On leaving the room and returning to his own duties, though he had convinced himself it had to be done, at that moment in time, he had no idea how.


	6. Episode 6a

Early next morning, out in the stable yard, before anyone else except the sculleries have stirred...

Female voice: I can't do it, I just can't! And how dare you ask me to put my leg over, I AM a lady, you know! Oh it's no good, I've been trying for weeks now, and stop manhandling me, boy!

Male voice: But you're very good once you get going, once you've climbed on top. You've certainly got the knack of handling him, you just need a little more practice.  
A scuffle can be heard, followed by grunting and moaning, then a loud 'ow!' and a thud

Male voice: See, now you're up there, you just need to remember to keep your thumbs on top and your elbows bend at 90 degrees. Keep your knees together, that's it, sit up straight. There, see, Mrs Diggins, you're fine. See, Mr Benjamin likes you!

Mrs Diggins as she comes into view, on her horse, as it is led round the stable yard slowly by Johnny: He most certainly does not like me, Mr Boots! He constantly neighs and flicks his tail, and most of the time he smells terrible. A large beast which never stops moaning!

Johnny mutters something under his breath and grins to himself, before stroking Mr Benjamin's nose and muttering 'it'll be all over soon' to the poor animal which looks strained and confused under so much weight

Johnny keen to get rid of her: This is your eighth lesson now Mrs Diggins, do you feel confident to go out on your own?

Mrs Diggins looking startled and almost affronted: On my own, Mr Boots! A lady does not ride alone, young man, any gentleman should know that! And anyway I feel much safer riding around the stable yard.

Johnny, exasperated at her lack of enthusiasm considering learning to ride had been her idea in the first place, strokes the horse's nose again and backs away to let Mrs Diggins trot around in circles, like she did EVERY damn lesson. It is bad enough that he has to get up extra early once a week, so not to interfere with her Lady's routine, but to have to listen to Mrs Diggins' constant whinging on is most certainly adding insult to injury. His momentary daydreaming is shaken by a sudden loud squark behind him, which causes him to jump. He spins round, looking down and frowning

Johnny kicking his leg out: Mrs Stanwick, shoo! SHOO! What are you doing here!

Mrs Diggins calling from her horse: Get that wretched bird away, boy, it's frightening Mr Benjamin!

And indeed it is. But Mrs Stanwick continues to squark, fanning out its tail feathers and snapping its beak angrily, chasing after Mr Benjamin who is beginning to trot, then canter in circles, Mrs Diggins bobbing around on top of him in the most unstable manner, her voice turning shaky

Mrs Diggins swaying as she grabs at the reigns: Mr...Boots...make...the...damn...bird...stoooooop!

Johnny yelling at her as he chases the bird round, grabbing at it unsuccessfully: I'm trying, I'm trying!  
SQUARK! SQUARK!

Mrs Diggins: Mr...Boots...Mr Benjamin's...going...fast...er! Arggh help me!

Johnny, breathless, is forced to abandon chasing Mrs Stanwick as the horse rears up, neighing loudly, Mrs Diggins leaning forward and gripping the reigns for dear life as she is jolted backwards and forwards. Johnny immediately darts forward to try and steady the horse, but before he can take over the reigns and stroke Mr Benjamin's nose again to calm him, the horse backs into a stable, banging Mrs Diggins' head on the roof, before bolting out again and almost galloping right around the yard, both Mrs Stanwick AND Mrs Diggins screeching louder than ever. Those in the yard are far too preoccupied to notice Jarvis and Will appearing, both only half dressed, wondering what on earth all the racket is about

Jarvis pointing and shouting but keeping well out of the way: Johnny, get that horse, and that bird, under control!

Will to Jarvis before dashing off into the fray: I'll help, sir!

Mrs Diggins sees Jarvis and calls out to him, as if he as butler and most senior servant could command a enraged bird and terrified horse to stop what they are doing and think about the consequences of their actions. Will and Johnny decide to try and grab the bird first, so they manage corner it before it dashes out between Will's legs and out of the courtyard, flapping violently and managing to take off for a moment before crashing back down and running away, its screeching still audible until it has vanished from sight. Mr Benjamin, luckily, has begun to calm, which is more than can be said for the Lady's maid who is wailing and clutching her chest. Will and Johnny both keep their distance, their hands held out in front of them, willing the horse to calm. Johnny moves forward very slowly, and gently takes hold of the reigns. He breathes a sigh of relief, walking round the side of the horse to help off Mrs Diggins as Will leans on his knees, his head hanging as he breathes heavily

Johnny: Mrs Diggins, I'm so sorry, can I help you down...

But as he looks up at her, he can see that she is still swaying on the horse. She rolls her eyes, moans slightly, then swoons, falling off the saddle and crashing down on Johnny before he can escape her form hurtling towards him. Will laughs out loud, and Jarvis cannot help but raise a smile, before ordering the under-butler to help him assist Mrs Diggins and a flattened, groaning Johnny.

Will to Jarvis as they heave her up: Don't think she'll be doing this again in a hurry!

Johnny struggling to his feet: I think she's broken my arm!

Jarvis glaring at him: Get back to your duties, Mr Boot - I'm sure Mrs Diggins will have plenty to say about this later!

Jarvis returned to the house, smiling to himself, Flora was never going to believe this. He had been most put out with her first thing that morning, waking him up so quickly and practically ordering him out of her room before he was awake to "go and find out what the hell was going on", as she had put it so eloquently. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had been given the chance to dress, but in his haste he had only put on the clothes she had flung at him, and a butler should never be caught by his underlings, dressed in only his trousers and vest. William Forest's face had been a picture that was no mistake. He looked as though he won a fortune at cards, catching his superior being slung out of the housekeeper's bedroom at six in the morning wearing only his essentials.

Slowly Jarvis tapped on Flora's door, but he heard no answer; looking quickly down the hall he heard the sounds of the rest of the staff waking up and he had no illusions what conclusions they would draw if he were caught. "Flora for goodness sake let me in!" He hissed through the keyhole.

"I'm having a bath!" She replied, sounding most annoyed at him disturbing her.

Suddenly Jarvis heard the sound of a door being opened and he had to quickly weigh up his options, he could risk upsetting Flora or he could loose his dignity. He seized the door knob and leaning his full weight against the door barged it open, before shutting it quickly behind him and collapsing relieved against it.

"Walter Corey!" Flora exclaimed grasping her towel and holding up against her. "What do you think you are doing?" She asked as Jarvis opened his eyes.

"Getting the rest of my clothes! Although now I'm here……" He trailed off suggestively, walking over to her seizing the sponge she had dropped and soaped it up, intending to wash her back for her. Flora gasped and sat back in the tub her towel wrapped firmly around her was now drenched and in reality left nothing to the imagination. Walter smiled quietly to himself at her rigid posture and prudery, which he found most amusing considering he had already seen every inch of her.

"Flora!" He reprimanded her, "don't be silly, here am I offering to do you a simple favour there is no need to become a reborn Diana on me!" But still Flora would not budge and the steely determination in her eyes and angry flush of her cheeks convinced him he'd have to do something pretty drastic if he didn't want to be sleeping alone again.

"Well if you insist!" He demanded, flinging down the sponge and lifting up his right foot, placing it on the edge of the bath tub before unlacing his shoe which he discarded carelessly before repeating the action with his other foot.

It was only when he pulled his vest over his head and began to unbutton his trousers that Flora really started to panic. "Walter Corey what do you think your doing?" She asked, her eyes darting from his hands to his face and back again.

Jarvis paused a sly grin on his face, "its quite simple my dear Flora, it obviously embarrasses you to be in such a state of undress when I am not, soooo I'm just adjusting the situation to make you more comfortable! Do you think there is room in there for two?"

For a moment Flora just sat there stunned, he couldn't mean it? The two of them share a bath! Then she caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye, and the smile pulling at his mouth before realising he was having her on. Slowly she reached forward and picked up the sponge, passing it backwards and forwards between her hands playfully before handing it back to him and turning over, throwing the towel away "Do be thorough won't you Walter, plenty of soap suds, and if I think you've done a good job you can help me do my hair."

A couple of hours later a very clean Flora Ryan appeared at breakfast followed by a somewhat damp and very frustrated Butler. He sat down grumpily to breakfast and dug into his bacon ignoring the smug glances that Flora kept sending his way, she had certainly got her revenge. He'd bent to her every whim, even helped brush out her hair, it had been quite enjoyable an experience in itself but he was damned he was going to admit that. Then just when he thought he was going to get his reward for his diligent efforts she'd pushed the tub fill of dirty soapy water towards him and practically forced him out the door. He had managed to get most of the way down the stairs without spilling it but then he had reckoned with out the twist of fate that was the new senior cook one Mr Samuel Moody Simpkins and his early morning exploits. Why was it at the precise moment Jarvis was at the side door carrying the now very heavy tub that Mr Simpkins decided to burst into a loud and rather rude version of My Old Mans a dustman, causing the startled butler to loose his grip and tip the water down the front of his only clean suit.

So Jarvis sat at breakfast cursing his own rotten luck, he had no choice but to wear the now sodden suit, at least something had gone right this morning having seen Lady Caroline off already this morning on her way to London and her Aunts house. At least that meant one less Sturges Bourne to worry about, at least for the time being. Now all he had to worry about was the fact that the Earl was feeling unwell again and the fact that he smelt distinctly of soap and lavender scented bath water.

Later that morning, well, early afternoon, Will had made his mind up that there was nothing else for it, but to use his most convenient afternoon off, to carry out Lizzie's wishes, or at least try to anyway. As he walked through the servants' courtyard, he caught a glimpse of her in first floor window, and on seeing, him, she stepped closer to the window. She hadn't expected him to be going into town quite so soon after issuing her request, but as she knew it was his afternoon off, she had a sneaking suspicion. Indeed, this suspicion had been so great that she'd been rushing to the window in rooms all along that corridor at regular intervals, as she went through them, collecting any laundry. On what must have been her tenth time of checking, Will had finally emerged.

She smiled down at him, giving a little nod, which Will translated quite rightly as 'you know what you have to do, and good luck'. He just stood there for a few moments, looking up at her face, it was so reassuring. For a few moments longer, Lizzie just returned his gaze, but she knew as long as she did so, he wouldn't leave. On coming to this conclusion, her smile widened, but she raised her right hand, shooing him on his way, mouthing 'GO ON!', complete with raised eyebrow.  
This brought a little laughter to Will, as Lizzie just didn't seem to have the knack of the whole raised eyebrow thing. Each time, both her brows raised in unison, so she appeared to be in a state of shock, rather than not being amused. It was one of her little quirks, one of the things he loved about her, and the best bit was, she didn't even know it. However, after the maid repeated her gesture, that time without the comical expression, Will realised he couldn't keep putting it off.

So, he turned on his heels, after giving a little wave (which Lizzie reciprocated), and one last look, he was on his way. Lizzie still paused in her duties, continued to watch over him until he vanished from the courtyard, without a look back as he was desperately trying to keep himself focussed. Lizzie kept her concentration on him as he walked, willing him to keep going. It was this concentration which prevented Lizzie noticing she was not alone in the room, until her company was quite literally peering over her shoulder.

When she let out an emotional sigh as Will disappeared from view, the person watching her couldn't hold back any longer "Whats so fascinating about Mr Forrest then Miss McDuff?"

The sudden voice in her ear startled Lizzie, and she stepped back, most unwittingly onto her father's foot, at which he let out a yelp. After a quick apology, she went on to claim she didn't know what on earth he was talking about.

"Ooch, don't give me that!" he light-heartedly scoffed.

"Give you what!" Lizzie retorted, still keeping up her pretence.

Knowingly, but still with a hint of sarcasm he answered "You can't pull the wool over my old eyes, my girl, I've seen the way you are with him."

Astonished, and a little embarrassed that this had been noticed, she cried "My 'WAY' with Will (correcting herself quickly), I mean Mr. Forrest, is no different to the way I am with everyone!"

"Well, I've seem the way he is around you, the way he follows you around the place!"

"He does NOT follow me around!" she protested

"Oh yes he does, he's always asking after you, he was doing it yesterday!"

There was a slight pause between this and her answer, partly because she was quite taken with the idea of Will asking after her, and partly because, she was taken aback at how familiar Adams was being all of a sudden.

But before she could go to speak, he reaffirmed his argument, fearing it may have fallen on deaf ears. "I suppose he found you in the end then? Had a nice chat did we, eh?" he sneered with a little wink.

"Oh don't be so ridiculous, it's not like that!" Lizzie snapped at his insinuation.

"Not like that is it!" Adams could hardly contain himself her perceived admission.

"Well then, do tell me, just what is it like? What was that quaint little scene all about, hmm?" he enquired, pointing towards the spot at which she had last seen Will a few moments ago.

Whereas Lizzie had always wondered what a father-daughter lecture would have been like, after this hell on earth, she certainly wouldn't be wishing another upon herself.

"Tell you, why should I tell you anything?" she said quite calmly, though with a venomous tinge.

"Because I AM your father Elizabeth". he reminded her, hoping this would swing it for him.

No such luck. At this Lizzie exploded. "By birth maybe, but you didn't even stick around to see that did you?"

"But I didn't know about you!" he argued, raising the decibel level further.

"And if you had, would that have made a blind bit of difference!" she cried.

For a split second, Adams was lost for words, he didn't know the answer himself yet, but when he went to at least say something, the pair were interrupted.

"What on god's green earth is going on in here?" gasped the housekeeper.

At this both father and daughter, who were still standing in the window, turned their heads sharply towards the door. "Mrs Ryan, I, we had no idea you were…." Adams gabbled.

"No, I shouldn't imagine you did, not with all that commotion!" she scolded, turning to look at a most distressed Lizzie. Her motherly instincts took over, as she placed her hand on Lizzie's arm, enquiring "Are you quite alright?"

Although she didn't speak, Lizzie's nod was enough to satisfy Flora, for the time being at least.

"Well Mr. Adams, in order to prevent you terrorising any other of my maids, would you come with me?"

However, Adams just stood there, still trying to think of the most honest answer to the maid's rather poignant question.

"That wasn't a request Mr Adams." Flora hinted with no attempt made at subtly. "Lizzie, could you please continue with your duties?" she asked in a much more compassionate tone.

Yes …. Mrs….. Ryan" he answered, still in his preoccupied state, as he followed her across the room and out of the door, looking back at Lizzie, who had turned back towards the window.

By the time she heard the door close, she was plunged into guilt. Guilt at the thought of sending Will off to confront his father, when she had just made such a hash of confronting her own. She questioned just how wise she had been to insist upon him trying to clear the slate, as things were never that easy.

Once outside the room, Flora indicates to Adams to come to her office, which he reluctantly does after realising that she isn't going to dash away so he can go back and finish his conversation with Lizzie. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh towards his daughter; the very last thing he wants to do is to push her further away from him, especially after his moment of pride in the Orangery, but it seems for now he will have to leave it and talk to her again later, maybe when they have had more time to think. Nevertheless her rather angry question spins around in his mind even after he has entered Mrs Ryan's office, but if the housekeeper has noticed the rather vacant look on Adams' face then she certainly doesn't comment. Although the two of them have managed to be civilised to each other since the now untalked about suicide bid, it occurs to both that this is really the first time they have conversed alone since the incident. Flora keeps a good distance between them, whether consciously or subconsciously Adams isn't quite sure, but he notices that the pregnancy must be already putting quite a bit of strain on her as her cheeks are very pale, almost as if she is about to swoon at any moment.

Flora sighing heavily, turning to face him: Mr Adams, I KNOW Lizzie is your daughter, but I really think you should have a little more decorum when addressing her, especially in such a public place! Any maid or footman or valet could walk past and hear you discussing your 'family issues' at the tops of your voices!

Adams, slightly taken aback by this outburst, would normally have retorted with a crass comment about her own 'family issues', as she likes to call them, but he is surprised and almost impressed that instead he doesn't want to say such a thing to her, but would rather advise her to go and have a cup of tea and a biscuit and calm herself down. He ponders this for a minute until Flora says something, quite unwittingly, that makes him stare in shock

Flora half leaning on her desk as if already exhausted from carrying out her duties while with child: It appears, Mr Adams, that you know nothing about women, whether it be your own daughter or otherwise, and really you should learn to think about the consequences of your actions or you will find you will loose the respect of every female which comes your way. 

She looks him straight in the eye, as if she knew things about his past, although Adams knows she possibly couldn't. Could she?

Flora: And, I suspect, there are not very many of them, unless there are other poor wenches, apart from your delightful child here at Taplows and her mother, you have abandoned before! Sometimes I find it very hard to believe that Lizzie McDuff is anything to do with you, she is so courteous and thoughtful, something you Mr Adams seem to lack…….Mr Adams? Are you alright?

Flora straightens herself and stares at the footman, something she has every right to do under the circumstance – Andrew Adams has begun to cry, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. He doesn't slump down the wall or throw himself into a chair, but just stands there, obviously completely devastated by something. Flora suddenly gasped to herself as she realises it must be HER fault – she has reduced Adams to tears by her sharp words

Flora dashing forward and gently rubbing his arm, cursing herself for her cruelty. Mr Adams, I'm sorry, I didn't mean……

Adams interrupting, momentarily pulling his hands away from his face to reveal puffy red eyes: Do you think she isn't mine, Mrs Ryan? Do you?

There is no spite or hate in his voice, but only sadness and worry, almost despairing and full of disappointment. Flora leads him to a chair and sits him down

Flora shaking her head and trying to smile as she passes him a handkerchief: I wasn't suggesting in all seriousness that she isn't yours Mr Adams, I was making an observation about her personality being so completely opposite to your own.

Flora chides herself again for what sounded like another insensitive remark before indulging in a little self reflection while Adams composes himself. This isn't the first time, she recalls, men have shown their weaker side to her – first Will, then Felix, now Adams. Maybe she has some effect over them that reduces them to tears, but she considers this a little worrying so tries not to dwell over it. For a second she wonders whether Walter has ever cried over her before Adams sniffles loudly and causes her to jump

Adams chin wobbling: I couldn't bare it if she isn't mine after all this. He looks up at her concerned expression, but he doesn't feel at all embarrassed at her seeing him like this. In a way, it felt almost comforting to him to be able to let it all out to her, although there is of course one certain woman that he feels he could never talk to ANYONE about. Ever. All I want to do is keep Lizzie safe, away from…from bad influences.

Flora giving him a cheeky grin: Oh, and you aren't a bad influence yourself, Mr Adams?

Adams manages to raise a smile through his turmoil before Flora's expression turns serious and she crouches next to him, tutting loudly

Flora: I believe however that you aren't talking about yourself, but a one William Forest, am I correct?

Adams nods emphatically, blowing his nose then letting his shoulders droop

Flora: Lizzie is a sensible girl, Mr Adams. I will not deny that Mr Forest can be… well….Flora stands up again, leaning back against her desk, almost smiling to herself…a bit of a charmer, I think would be an appropriate phrase. But I have seen the way she is with him and she does not seem to me to show any romantic intentions towards him.

Adams shooting her a glance and sounding bitter: I've seen the sort of girl that Forest goes for, I remember that Esther and her smut and that foul tongue in her head, well my Lizzie isn't like that and I don't want him corrupting her!

Flora detecting a very complex range of sensitivities in Adams' angst: Of course she isn't like Esther! I hope none of the girls in this house are as disagreeable as that little madam, and I am sure I would be the first to spot anything of the sort! I also think you misjudge Mr Forest a little…….

Adams leaping out of his seat and looking almost threatening, causing Flora to back away a little: I am sure I know exactly what he is up to, Mrs Ryan!

As he speaks, Jarvis appears in the doorway looking a little concerned. He looks straight at Flora as Adams turns away from him and stares out of the window

Jarvis softly: Is everything alright in here, Mrs Ryan?

Flora nodding and shooing him away with a glance at the door: Yes, Mr Jarvis, everything is fine. 

Looking dissatisfied with her answer, he reluctantly exits, gently shutting the door behind him. Adams turns to face Flora, a calmer expression on his face

Adams smiling and raising an eyebrow: You don't have to call him Mr Jarvis for my benefit, Mrs Ryan. 

Flora with a look of distain: Oh I see the usual Mr Adams has now returned!

Adams' face falls – it seems she now thinks that his upset had all been an act. He goes to speak, to try to tell her that he really IS concerned for his sweet daughter, when she cuts in, her expression changed to pity

Flora: Don't worry, I will keep a closer eye on her. And on him. If it DOES seem her and Mr Forest are more than colleagues then come to me, do not in your hot-headed manner take matters into your own hands.

Adams nodding but thinking quite the opposite as he backs towards the door: Aye, Mrs Ryan, I will. And thank you.

She smiles softly at him, but as he turns and walks out of the door Jarvis, who has obviously been lingering outside her office, gives him a warning look before entering again

Jarvis to Flora, once Adams is out of earshot: What on earth did he want? 

Flora playfully tapping him on the arm: Oh, it is so sweet how you worry, Walter! I asked to see him, he's having a little trouble with Lizzie, that's all.

Jarvis threading his arms around her waist and pulling her in, kissing her forehead: A little family trouble, eh? And we'll be having a 'little family trouble' of our own very soon.

Gazing at him and smiling, she kisses his nose then rests her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes as he holds her and the baby tight, neither ever wanting this moment to end

Will advanced across the parkland, dodging the deer as he went, and as he strode up the hill, nearing its crest, he could see the house in all its glory unfolding before him. He stopped at the top of the mound, just staring at the place he called home for a few moments as he tried to convince himself to continue, but desperately wanted just to turn back the way came. The walk back from Tappleton had taken him five times as long as it needed to have done, as instead of popping back down the lane, he decided to take the scenic route.

However, it couldn't really qualify as that, as the scenery did not distract Will from his thoughts for one moment. He had purposefully chosen the long way round to delay his return, hoping Lizzie wouldn't suspect a thing. How could he tell her that he'd backed out, right at the last minute? How could he admit, that upon spying his drunken father staggering across the Main Street at little after three in the afternoon, he had just walked away, that he hadn't been able to mutter a word?

With a deep sigh and after realising that he couldn't put this off forever (especially when he was almost ten minutes late already), he carried on down the hill, back to the real world, where he had no doubt that Lizzie would be waiting. Ordinarily, this was a concept he would relish, her awaiting his return, but in this instance, he knew that there'd be a round of grilling questions before anything else. As he rounded the Orangery, progressing into the servants' courtyard, he was indeed met by a Scot, however, to Will's surprise, it was not the one he had been expecting. For a split second a wave of relief came over him, but on seeing Adams' grim looking face, this soon disappeared.

"Well, where have we been then … Sir?" the footman enquired with a cynical expression across his face.

Though Will knew he didn't have to justify that, he still replied "Urgh, I was in town on a little matter of business if you must ask"

"And what sort of 'business' was this then? Something most undesirable, I have no doubt." Adams spouted.

"As a matter of fact, NO it wasn't, not that that is any of your concern!" Will scolded, pushing past his subordinate, but Adams caught his arm, spinning him round, gaining him a sneer from Will.

At this Adams sneered back, talking into his ear in a most unnerving tone "Im afraid your quite mistaken Laddy, it is of my utmost concern if you should, and lets face it (with a huff), YOU probably will, drag my daughter into disrepute."

"I have no intention of dragging Lizzie into anything (well, maybe not strictly anything, he thought whimsically to himself) … but now that you mention it" his words slowed, a grin creeping across his face, adding just a little wink in order to get Adams going good and proper.

This had the desired effect, but much more so than Will had expected, as Adams grabbed him by each of his jacket lapels, pulling the defenceless under-butler toward him. "Don't you remember the last time we were here, hmm? Didn't putting you in your sick bed for a week get through that thick skull of yours, hmm?" he mused, knocking on Will's head to emphasise his point.

Getting his nerve back after it had escaped him momentarily, Will warned him, with a satisfied snort "You know you can't touch me now, even if you do, you'll be out on your ear, I'll make sure of that no worries".

"And if you touch my only child, I'll have you six feet under, sounds like a deal to me." Adams grimaced.

At this, Will dragged his head up to stare the bully in the eye. But on doing so, he noticed Lizzie emerging from the kitchen door out the corner of his eye, and decided to play his advantage.

"And why would that be eh?"

Adams said nothing in reply, looking completely foxed as to what Will was banging on about, so Will, in no uncertain terms, quickly proceeded to tell him, before Lizzie was in earshot.

"Why exactly is she your ONLY child hmm? No other poor woman would fall for your …. Charms …. Long enough for you to-"

Adams didn't let Will finish, at this he'd heard enough of people belittling him, but right on cue, he launched into what people knew him for best. He grabbed the youngster by the scruff of the neck, thrusting him up against the wall, at which Lizzie's jaw dropped and she hurtled over to the pair of them. Despite the pain, Will was secretly enjoying this, and just as Lizzie approached them, he finished Adams off, looking down on him in disgust, professing "You know, men like you shouldn't be allowed to have children!"

Still unaware of his daughters presence, an enraged Adams hollered "Men like me yeah? Is that what you think? Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint!" He dropped will to the ground, at which Lizzie let out a scream. However, Adams was now in a world of his own, going on to literally put the boot in, as Will was slumped on the floor.

It was only when the maid had dragged him away, he came back to his senses. But as he tried to apologise, Lizzie dropped to the floor to attend to her injured beau. When she was satisfied that he was indeed conscious, she looked back up at her father, with a stare of utter contempt.

She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed, but wasted no time in voicing her total disdain. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Lizzie I.. I.."

"Oh, don't even bother, you just couldn't let it go could you?" she seethed with anger.

"But, but he provoked me, he, he" now he was struggling, as it was all to clear his words weren't making a blind bit of difference.

"Its always someone else's fault isn't it? Why you abandoned me, the alcoholism, the debts, the lies, your demotion!"

"Well, that WAS his fault!" gesturing at Will.

"Really, well I've got another theory for you" her voice now rational and most informative "Its all YOU, its no one else! EVERYTHING you touch, you harm, and most of the time its irrevocable !"

These harsh words made Adams really step back a few paces, this wasn't like her, she was incensed, and for the first time in a long time, he knew it was all his fault. "Say no more Miss McDuff, I comprehend your sentiments loud and clear!" with that, he slowly turned around, dragging his heels sombrely back to the house.

He looked back only once, but on seeing his daughter helping Will up, placing his arm around her shoulder before kissing him on the cheek, he swung around and stalked off. However, he was left with a glimmer of hope as he faintly heard her plead "Your not going to tell are you?" leaving him with plenty of food for thought, and not a bite of it tasted good.

20 minutes later, Jarvis is storming back to his office from the housekeeper's, looking very much put-out, only stopping once to check that he had buttoned up his waistcoat correctly and that his pocket watch is still firmly where it should be - in his pocket. But, surely, if he is checking such details of his attire when it isn't first thing in the morning, shouldn't he be looking a little more pleased with himself than he is? Well, one would think so, but not this time. It had all gone well at first, Jarvis had ended their lingering hug by gently nuzzling her neck, and she had responded by lifting up her head and giving him a long, soft kiss. She had begun to play with the buttons on his waistcoat before unbuttoning them as she pushed his jacket off, but just as his waistcoat was falling off his shoulders and he thought his luck was in, suddenly she stopped, frowning, and to Jarvis' mind completely ruining the moment.

Flora shaking her head, her hands falling: I can't, I'm sorry Walter, I've got too much on my mind.

Jarvis trying to conceal his disappointment: Why? The baby?

Flora smiling at his suggestion - he was obviously trying to be sensitive: No, nothing like that. It's Mr Adams.

Jarvis' already folorn expression turned even more moody at the mention of Adams' name. He tutted, quickly buttoning himself up again, then roughly folded his arms, pouting like a spoilt schoolboy who had lost at a game of conkers

Flora raising an eyebrow: Don't look like that at me! The poor man is in a right state over his daughter and he needs a bit of encouragement I think.

She stared for a little longer at Jarvis, waiting for his response. It slowly dawned on him what she meant

Jarvis pacing: Oh, I see, you want ME to talk to him! You're more appropriate I would have thought, all those maternal feelings you must be experiencing!

Flora exasperated: I've tried, Walter, but remember to him I'm only a woman and what do I know about a man's feelings? Please talk to him, pleeeeeease?

Flora walked up to him and placed her head on his arm, looking up at him and smiling sweetly. Oh damn it, why does she always do this to me, Jarvis thought. She could melt his heart with one of her more endearing smiles, she knew it, and this was definitely one of them. He kissed the top of her head before bringing her round to face him, giving her one of his more sultry looks to compete with her sweetness - two can play at that game, he thought - before running his hands down her sides and giving her waist a gentle squeeze. He failed to notice her lean slightly behind her, picking up his discarded jacket from a chair

Jarvis brushing strands of hair off her face before reaching up to unclip it: I'm sure we've got a little time before returning to our duties, don't you think?

He ran his thumb across her chin as Flora crinkled up her nose, smiling, before kissing him far more quickly than he was desiring and stuffing his jacket between them

Flora stepping back, her voice formal but with a hint of playfulness: Now, please, Mr Jarvis! I fear that Adams may do something a little silly with regards to William Forest if you don't catch up with him soon.

Jarvis puffing out his chest and snatching the jacket from her: Look here, Mrs Ryan, I am butler and you are housekeeper, I think you will find that ordering me around is not the done thing!

Flora moved close towards him again, sexily raising her eyebrow and running her tongue along her top lip. She reached up and gently brushed the back of his neck, lowering her voice as she played with the end of his neck tie between her fingers and locking her gaze with his

Flora: Well, I can make it worth your while later, if you like.

Leaning in further, she ran her fingers across his lips and whispered something obviously delightfully suggestive in his ear, because his stern I'm-not-going-to-be-under-your-spell expression softened as he giggled naughtily

Jarvis roughly putting his jacket back on, smiling: Well, if you put it like that, Mrs Ryan, how can I say no?

She winked at him as he exited her office, but his annoyance at missing out on some well-deserved action crept back at he walked back to his own office. So here he is now, desperately not wanting to talk to Adams. He flings open the door to his own office, but notices Adams dashing past, his head down in deep thought

Jarvis Thinking that Flora definitely has to make it worth his while later or else: Ah, Mr Adams! May I have a word?

Later that evening the lower servants were seated round the dining table waiting for the evening meal to be served. Will sat at the head of the table in his position of Under-Butler, although his lip was split and a nasty bruise was appearing on the side of his head he wore his injuries with pride. Lizzie hadn't stopped fussing over him since his altercation with Adams and he was enjoying all the attention. He kept looking out for Adams, he wanted to be able to see the Scottish git's face when he finally dragged his sorry carcass in for dinner and saw Lizzie sitting and supporting Will over her own father.

However Will was destined to be disappointed not only had Adams so far not made an appearance, neither had the dinner. George got up slowly from his seat and wandered over to Will, "Oi Will, what's going on? I know the Earl is short of money but they really should have told us they were scrapping dinner as well!"

Will shrugged his shoulders, "Don't ask me mate, I was out all afternoon."

Suddenly Grace dashed into the room and George called out to her, waving her over to join him at the top of the table. "Er Grace don't suppose you've seen any sign of our dinner on your travels?"

"Dinner, you'll be lucky! Not any time soon at any rate. Lizzie where have you been? Cook's being yelling blue murder, you can't just disappear when you feel like, I've had to do more improvising than an Italian actor just to keep you from the sack."

"Lay off her Grace!" Will butted in, a little harsher than he had planned, but he was anxious to protect Lizzie from having to answer questions about earlier.

"Mate!" George retorted immediately jumping to his lady's defence, "there's no need to talk like that to Grace she was only asking and she did cover for Liz." He added reasonably.

Will shook his head and shrugged his shoulders apologetically, "sorry Grace it's just…." He trailed off unwilling to go into details, "well you know!" Then the clamours of the rest of the staff caught his attention, Fred and Joe ably assisted by Johnny had started a chant, "Dinner, Dinner, Dinner….." over and over again slowly getting louder and louder until Will raised a hand to quieten them down, worried that Mr Jarvis would hear the noise and come storming through demanding to know what the ruckus was all about.

"Alright lads that's enough! I'll just have a wander through to the kitchen and find out what's holding up our grub!" With this he stood up and straightened his jacket and putting on his most authoritative glare strode through the hall and through the corridor to the kitchen.

His crusade was stopped in its tracks when on arriving at the kitchen he was greeted by a scene of pandemonium. He had to dodge the rest of the kitchen maids who were dashing about the room as though possessed, most looked dead on their feet, sweat dripping from their brows. He finally made his way over to cook, who was standing in front of the fireplace arguing with one of the lay handyman over the repairs necessary to the spit. Will tried repeatedly to exert his authority and capture Mr Simpkins attention but the cook continued to wave aside any comment he managed to utter. Finally Will found it necessary to raise his voice, "Mr Simpkins!"

This caused the round red faced squat fellow to actually glance at Will for the first time, "Aghhhhhh about time!" He muttered, and strode over to sideboard picking up a bowl and whisk before turning and approaching Will forcing the said items into his hands with a quick wave that indicated Will should get to work. For a moment Will stood there speechless just who did this fat old fart think he was?

Will walked over to Simpkins and tried to force the bowl back on the cook, but before he could Simpkins had turned back to him and was tutting sharply, "Not like that boy, use your wrist, plenty of wrist action!" Then he strode over grabbing a spare apron and attempted to try it around the protesting Will, when he managed to knot it tightly he grabbed Wills hand and forced him to began beating the cream correctly, it was at this point that the rest of the footmen descended on the kitchen.

Fed up with waiting for Will to sort out the problem they had decided to pop into the kitchen and nab whatever was going, however catching Will getting cookery lessons dressed in a frilly piny was better than any table scraps. In hysterics they left the kitchen, practically choking on the food that had pinched as they were shooed out by the maids anxious to avoid anymore of the new cook's outbursts. As soon as they had gone and the door was closed Will snuck off to the pantry and violently ripped the offending apron from around his waist before slumping back against the wall his head in his hands, just how was he ever going to live this down?

If Jarvis had hoped that the next morning would have started any better than the last then he was mistaken. Once more he was woken by a sharp poke in the ribs, rolling over he grasped the offending hand and pinned it down against the mattress, however this did nothing to deter Flora from her goal and so he then was forced to dodge an attack from her other hand. Finally after a barrage of pokes and tickles he admitted defeat, silently praying that this was not going to turn into a morning ritual, "alright what is it today?" He asked managing to open one sleepy eye long enough to glare at her, "It had better have nothing to do with either that damn peacock, Mrs Diggins or especially Mr Adams!"

Flora pretended to be most offended by his grumpiness, "Well if your going to be like that, I don't suppose there's much point in me….." She trailed off turning over in bed so that her back faced Walter. After a few moments of her stalwartly ignoring him and his attempts to get her to talk to him, Jarvis decided on drastic action and leant forward nuzzling the nape of her neck. Surprising Flora managed to last almost a minute before caving in and turning over. In between kisses Jarvis asked, "So what was it you wanted?"

Flora pushed him off her slightly, "I was…. Well I was a little peckish," then with a sultry smile she added, "after last night and all…. and I was wondering….?"

Bemused Jarvis shook his head, "Then why didn't you just get up and go downstairs yourself, why the need to wake me?"

Flora smiled and in her most pleading voice replied, "but Walter I can't go downstairs in my nightdress, and it would take me ages to get dressed and there would be no point in my coming back to bed, isn't having me here worth a little sacrifice, hmmmmm?"

Jarvis propped his head up on his hand and looked at her in amusement, "are you telling me? That unwilling to go downstairs yourself you expect me to trot off to the kitchen to fetch you something…." He paused reaching over to his abandoned waistcoat for his pocket watch, "at six o'clock in the morning?"

Flora nodded, and in response Walter shook his vigorously before leaning back against his pillow, however he had reckoned without her persistent nature. Slowly Flora snuggled up next to him, and traced her fingers up and down his chest, sporting a pout worthy of Grace. "Please Walter, it wouldn't take you long and I'd be every so grateful!"

"Hmmmm, that's what you said about getting me to help wash your hair and about talking to Adams, but frankly my dear your promises are not what they used to be!"

Annoyed Flora slung herself back on the mattress beside him, seizing the covers rolling over pulling them with her so that Jarvis had to cling desperately on to the edge. "Well if that's how you feel, may be you'll want to sleep in your own room from now on, that way you won't have to deal me!"

"Flora!" Jarvis spluttered unable to keep up with her rapidly changing moods, he had been warned to expect this but frankly just trying to keep up with her mood swings was giving him a headache let alone trying to predict them. Sighing he realised if he was going to survive this pregnancy with any shred of control or sanity it would just be easier if he gave in. For a moment as he dressed, whilst glaring at Flora's back willing her to turnover, he pondered over Mr Adams words, well the one's he could remember from their drunken evening. He was right Flora did always find a way to manipulate him, but as he leant down to tie his shoe laces he decided he wouldn't want it any other way.

It is mid morning the post arrives, and for the second time that week Adams' heart leaps for joy. Snatching the letter off Johnny, he hurries to the footmans' bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind him and slumping down into a chair. Yes, the writing was definitely hers again, and the faint whiff of her perfume lingers on the envelope, filling his nostrils and making Adams light-headed with excitement. He sighs heavily, loosening his collar, and he is just about to roughly open the letter when he pauses, frowning as doubt and regret creeps into his mind. What is he doing? Why on earth is he full of so much anticipation? He throws his head back, sliding further down into his chair, and rubs his eyes. He concedes he is living in fantasy land if he thinks that they will ever, realistically, be together in that way again, even if he did go back to Highlands. He is fooling himself, and he has enough women problems here at Taplows without getting a fantastic notion into his head about a life with a beautiful flame-haired Scot he will never have. He thought he had started to reform himself, and he had been pleased with his progress in so far as he had been perfectly gentlemanly with Mrs Ryan. Except for the crying and the wailing and generally embarrassing himself, of course, but she didn't really seem to mind. But the fight with Will had cancelled out all of his hard work and set him right back to square one again. He would never want Rebecca to see him like that. He had never wanted Elizabeth to see him like that either, but he had managed to screw that one up good and proper. He would be surprised if she ever said a word to him again, let alone look him in the eye. She doesn't love him, and she never would, and who could blame her? He looks thoughtfully at the letter before putting it on his bed, reaching under his mattress and bringing out his diary. It has been a complete pain not having his own room, the only bit of privacy he had become accustomed to taken away from him by that little bloody upstart. He hunted out the communal inkwell and quill, then perched on the end of his bed to write.

Dear Diary,  
I have been pondering this strange conversation for the past few hours now and I'm still not sure what the point was. Jarvis seemed rather agitated when he called me in, he was hovering by his door looking rather distant as if someone had said something very confusing to him and he was still trying to work out what they were on about. On entering his office I noticed that his jacket was a little more crumpled than normal; very unlike him considering his eye for presentation, but I think I must have smiled more obviously than I meant to because he tugged at it rather vigorously in a rather self-conscious manner before launching into some speech about families and how he knows first hand how difficult they can be etc etc. He kept pacing, glancing every which way but not at me, refusing to look me in the eye. It was almost as if Flora had put him up to it. Even after our drunken heart to heart there was no way he was ever going to wear the trousers in their relationship – well, not really. He boomed out more words of wisdom at me, and to be honest I was beginning to become pretty bored, until suddenly he stopped, looking at me inquisitively before coming over to me and gripping me by the shoulders. He wasn't threatening in any way (not that any man who is short, blond haired and wears poncy waistcoats ever could), and he spoke so quietly I could hardly hear what he was asking me.

I will always remember that look of wonder on his face as he asked 'what is it like?' I was a wee bit stunned, so asked him what he meant, but he just repeated it again until he finally got the words out: 'what is it like to have a child?' I tried to make the best of an awkward moment, telling him that I had only really known Lizzie five minutes of her life and I was not the man to answer him, but he looked crestfallen with my reply so I thought about it again quickly. It was as if he thought I had some deep, insider knowledge into the world of fatherhood, despite the problems Flora had obviously relayed to him.

I thought I had better help the poor man out, so we sat down and I said something like: 'It's frightening when you find out that you have a child, whether it is unborn or sixteen years old…….' Jarvis interrupted my flow by saying in shock that he was pretty certain that he doesn't have a sixteen year old daughter anywhere, but I resisted the urge to tut and say that he had missed my point, and carried on. '….it is frightening at first, but also the most wonderful news – that something so natural could produce something so….so…….' Jarvis looked at me with raised eyebrows 'natural, Mr Adams?'

I must have looked a little strained, as he smiled slightly at me. 'Aye, quite,' I said, shuffling my shoes. 'A child may drive you completely mad, rebelling against your every wish just to incense you, but they may also bring you great joy just from their smile or the way they look at you. Just knowing that they are your life blood can be enough sometimes. You always worry that you're never good enough for them, and if they ever look at you with contempt it stabs through your heart like a sword. I am sure, Mr Jarvis, that you will be a much better father than I, just pray you don't have a girl, as I am sure they are put on this earth to try their fathers' patience!'

It was a bit strange, as Jarvis seemed to be daydreaming, a smile fixed on his face. 'I'm going to be a father' He said, grinning as if it had been me who had just given him the news there and then. 'Mr Adams, I'm going to have a child' I replied that I knew he was, then there was a long pause until I could bear it no longer. 'So, what was it you wanted to see me about?' Jarvis shook his head, standing up from his desk and moving towards the window before saying that he couldn't really remember what it was, except to say that I should cherish Lizzie now that I have found her as she is part of my identity now. I had a feeling that really Flora had ordered him to ask me about Will Forest, but before he could gather his thoughts I bid my leave, not really wanting to ask him the awkward questions of when he and Flora were thinking of finding their own place to live and what is going to happen to Taplows.

Adams snaps out of his thoughts, staring hard at the letter again. Oh what the hell, he thinks, just open it, you only live once. The anticipation welling up inside him, he rips open the seal and begins to read:

Dear Andrew,  
I hope my second letter finds you well, my darling, and I was so relieved to find that you managed to avoid debters gaol, but I am most distraught to hear that your master was tricked out of his fortune by that abominable Freddie Fifflington-Piffles. I met him once at a dinner a Burns Night some years ago and found him to be most disagreeable, as was his equally abhorrent wife.  
Some other interesting news has reached Highlands, and it seems many of the big houses up here, about a relationship between your butler and housekeeper. You know how tongues wag, and how it doesn't take long for gossip to get out, I was just pleased that our brief liaison remained between the two of us.

It appears, what with the current troubles at Taplows, that I may not be able to visit Lady Caroline after all, but if you want to return to Highlands then I would be most pleased to have you back again. I hope my love for you is not clouding my judgement and that you have given up your gambling ways, and I pray there are no other secrets I should know about!  
Please write back to me, I am desperate to hear from you and my feelings for you still grow stronger by the day.  
With all my affection,  
Rebecca.

Adams slowly lowers the letter, confused feelings grabbing at his heart. There are two lines which he keeps mulling over, and only one of them delights him, but his thoughts are interrupted when two footmen barge in, so he stuffs the letter in his pocket.

After finishing washing up the lunch dishes, Lizzie was a woman on a mission, a mission to find a certain under-butler, who was still sporting a few bruises following a certain affray with her father. After the incident, she hadn't seen fit to grill him on the meeting with his father, instead electing to tend to his every whim (well almost), partly because she couldn't bare to see him injured, and partly because, no matter how infuriated she was with her hot-headed father, she didn't want to see him in any further trouble.

But, on scrubbing the last plate, she had made her mind up that it was now or never, well, or later, but she chose now. She knew that he wasn't going to want to talk about it, regardless of whether it had gone well or badly, though she hoped it had been the former. Now was her chance as he strolled past the kitchen, bringing back his lordship's lunch tray which comprised of so many pieces of crockery, she wondered how the old man managed to find the room to eat off of all of them.

Enough beating about the bush she concluded as she hurtled across the room, throwing open the door, leaving a rather unimpressed Charlotte to wipe the remaining things on her own. "Wi-, Um, Mr Forrest!"

Will knew exactly what was coming, but knew he couldn't ignore her, not that he would ever wish to on any other occasion apart from this. "Yes Miss McDuff" he sniggered, still finding his new more formal role a little to good to be true.

Lizzie giggled as she hung off the door frame, it still felt strange to her having to call him that, so decided to address him as she wished, albeit in a lower tone of voice. "Will, I was just …. Just wondering …"

"Oh really my sweet, now, I wonder what that was about." Giving her a knowing look and trying to keep up the stern pretence, but failing dismally.

At this, Lizzie left the confines of the kitchen and crept down the corridor toward him. "You know exactly what 'that was about'!"

She was doing the funny thing with her eyebrow again, which strangely helped to put him at ease, answering "Yes, I know all too well as to the matter of which you refer!"  
Still doing the eyebrow thing, she shot a 'you know theres no way you can seriously get away with talking like that' look his way. "Well….?" she hinted.

"Well……" (mimicking her) "Lets just say it was …. Urgh…. (trying to find the right word for the totally fictitious meeting) … difficult."

"Yes, I can imagine it would have been so." she conceded, stepping closer to him, at which he offered her his arm, which she accepted, after checking that there was no one else looking of course.

"But one verb, is that all I am to expect in reply?"

He looked down at her on his arm, but on lifting his head to face forward again, it was clouded with panic, he just wasn't going to get away from this, so replied. "Well it was all rather…. Difficult-"

"Yes, you've said that one, didn't realise the span of your vocabulary was THAT minuscule!" she teased, squeezing his arm.

"Well, theres no other word for it, it was awkward as arse, just a hop skip and a jump from my idea of hell if you must know!" Will snapped a little (half pretending, trying to bring THIS difficult conversation to an end), releasing her arm.

In saying it Lizzie hadn't banked on him reacting like that, so tried to diffuse the situation. "Im sorry Will, I just thought, well, I was just trying to…"

"Yeah I know" he said softly, tenderly running his hand down the rather relieved maid's left cheek, before brushing it quickly on the end of her nose. "Look, it wasn't very pleasant, but I think we made some ground."

"Really?" she questioned, delighted at this. "Did he even attempt to apologise? Did he give any indication as to when he's leaving Tappleton? Did he-?"

"Woah, steady on there Sergeant McDuff!" Will reverted back to his normal sarcastic self. He didn't want her to go any further, and only chose to answer the second of the enquiries she had managed to pose, as he had no intention of fabricating an answer to the first. "He did say something about moving on…"

"Soon!" she chipped in, she couldn't help herself.

"Yes!" (Will was glad she was offering answers for him) "Pretty soon I believe, so we wont have to worry for much longer."

At this conformation, she couldn't hide her absolute relief, closing her eyes, smiling to her self and leaning her head back to look up to the ceiling, letting out a sigh.

She stayed like that for a few seconds, in which Will was captivated by he face, one so angelic at that very moment. She snapped out of it pretty quickly though, when Will seized her by the shoulders, rubbing them gently.

"So are you two on better terms now?"

"Don't push it lady!" he light-heartedly warned her, with a uneasy grin. "Permission to return to duty ma'am" he standing up straight, as if to attention.

"Permission granted sir". she obliged, with a commanding nod of her head.

With one last gaze, the two parted, their removal hastened by the fact that they could here Jarvis just around the corner, shouting at Johnny for being late with his mail yet again.

A few hours later and as the lower servants were sitting down to lunch Mr Jarvis was assisting Mrs Ryan into a carriage; once she was settled he jumped up and sat down beside her, waving to the coachman to depart.

"So where are we going?" She asked again, hoping that her persistence and pleading tone would wear down his resolve.

Jarvis simply smiled and shook his head, "That my dear Flora is for me to know and you to find out!"

"That's not fair, after all it's my afternoon off as well!" She retorted sharply.

"Yes well, you did say it was up to me and when I asked you for suggestions just the other day you said to surprise you…. So really I'm only doing as you asked!" He replied teasingly.

"Well!" Flora expounded, "we only have an afternoon so its not like we can go far, so that only means into town." She glanced at Walter but despite his grin he wasn't giving anything away. Deciding if she wasn't going to find out where they were going she could at least wheedle out of him who had sent him that parcel this morning. Slowly she shifted over to him resting her head on his shoulder and grasping his hand threading her fingers through his. "Walter." She asked as he kissed her forehead and nuzzled into her hair.

"Yes Flora?" He whispered.

"Who sent you that parcel?"

"Hmmmmm. So you know about that do you? He growled softly, amused as always by her childlike impatience.

Flora lifted her head off his shoulder and sat up tall so that she could rest her forehead against his and look him the eye, rubbing her nose teasingly against his. "Please tell me."

Jarvis smiled and brushed his free hand down her cheek, tracing the outline of her lips before answering, "If you must know, it was from my mother, but don't even ask what was in it because I won't tell you!"

Flora giggled, "Let me guess another surprise?" Then she added running her hands up inside his waistcoat and tickling him. "Are you sure I can't prise it out of you?"

Jarvis started to laugh but shook his head, "I told you I'm not saying anything, no matter what you do!"

"That sound like a challenge?" Flora replied wickedly.

"Oh it is, however I suggest you may might want to wait till later unless you feel like putting on a public performance?" He added pointing out the window as they passed Tappleton's outlying houses. Immediately embarrassed Flora withdrew her hands and settled herself back on her seat looking anywhere other than at Walter's grinning face.

A few hours later a very happy Flora Ryan and an equally pleased but exhausted Walter Corey finally left the drapers. He was laden down with only four parcels, fortunately he had insisted that the drapers have the clothes made up rather than allowing Flora to make up the dresses herself, she had protested at first saying it was far too expensive. However Jarvis knew as he struggled with the four small parcels that he had made the correct decision. Funnily enough the fact that he would have to carry the parcels had not influenced his decision at the time, he had been far more concerned with the idea of Flora spending her spare time dressing making rather than with him, but now he was thanking his stars that he hadn't caved in. At his suggestion they headed off to the carriage to drop off the packages before going for a walk and then some afternoon tea.

Not surprisingly the coachman had chosen to spend his afternoon at the Cock and Bull, and Jarvis insisted Flora stay by the carriage as this pub was no place for a lady whilst he ventured inside looking for their missing driver. So she stood nervously waiting for him to reappear, her feelings of uneasiness started to heighten when she noticed that a couple of the notorious drunks slumped outside on the pavement appeared to be talking about her, one even gestured towards her. Slowly one of the fellows got to his feet and Flora hoped that he was intending to go back inside for another drink, however he didn't instead he began to make his way over to her staggering slightly, and spilling his pint on the cobbles.

Flora turned and walked round the other side of the carriage toward the horses however the drunk kept following her. "Missus!" He slurred out. "Missus wait!" Now Flora was really frightened although it was still afternoon there wasn't many people around, suddenly she realised that the safest place at the moment was probably the pub. Turning on her heel she marched straight passed the drunk, who was so intoxicated her sudden change in direction confused him, but he soon realised what was going on and was soon hard upon her heels calling out to her in his slurred voice.

Determined to find Walter as soon as possible Flora broke out into a run and barged through the doors, causing several people who were leaving to jump out of her way. As soon as she was through the doors she scanned the room for Walter, but the ceilings were low and the small windows didn't let in much light so she had to wade through the room looking for him choking on the thick smoke as she went.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder and hoping it was Walter she whirled around, instead she was faced by an unsavoury looking character who thrust his drink under her nose with one hand and tried to grab a feel with the other. Outraged she smacked his hand away with force and pushed further into the pub, suddenly she heard he name being called. Turning towards it she saw a concerned and angry looking Walter pushing his way through the crowd towards her, at first he looked like he was going to seriously tell her off but his reprimand was cut-off when she literally flung her arms around him shaking with relief.

Gently he guided her out of the building, a protective arm around her waist protecting her from jostling and her stomach from flailing limbs. When they were outside he quickly walked over to the carriage intent at first on taking her home, but Flora placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Can we go for that walk now?" She asked timidly, "I think I could do with the fresh air."

Frowning at first, still annoyed at her disobeying his instruction and putting both herself and their child at risk, Walter was about to say no but then Flora exclaimed loudly and pointed towards one of the drunks passed out on the pavement. "That's him, the one who was hassling me, he wouldn't leave me alone and I was so frightened I thought inside would be safer!" At this her eyes teared up and she buried her head into his shoulder. After a few minutes Walter grasped her chin and wiped the tears from her cheek, before offering her his arm and setting off slowly towards the park.

When they arrived they took the main path that wound through the park towards the boating lake. After a few minutes silence their solitude was suddenly interrupted by the sound of children arguing, rounding the trees they saw a bunch if local boys in the middle of a cricket match. The dispute appeared to be over the lost ball which had become lodged in a tree, the argument was over whose job it was to retrieve it the batsman's or the fielders. Flora glanced across at Walter, who she could tell from his rapt expression was itching to get involved, suddenly as if conscious of her gaze he looked at her. "What may I ask Mrs Ryan is so amusing?"

"You! Don't try and pretend you don't want to go over and join in Walter, I know you too well." She replied smiling broadly at him.

Jarvis chuckled, was he so always so readable? "There's plenty of time for that!" Then he added, "after all someone's got to teach ours to play, how to hold the bat properly and not bowl like a girl."

"But what if it is a girl, surely then it's alright?" She said teasingly.

"Yes then it is acceptable, however I'm certain ours is a boy!" He stated decidedly.

"Really? And how did you come across this knowledge when even I don't know, do you have some special communication with the almighty that I am unaware of or is there a strain of gypsy blood in your family?"

Laughing Jarvis, laid a hand on her stomach, "no just a feeling!"

"And this feeling also tells you that our son will automatically like cricket and not prefer some other sport like fishing or perhaps shockingly not like sport at all?" She added in mock horror her hands clasping her cheeks

"Our Walter not like sport, woman are you mad?" He relied playing along.

"Walter?….When did we decide this?" Flora asked her expression turning serious and her voice clipped.

Jarvis blushed slightly at her catching him out, and he tugged nervously at his collar. "What's wrong with the name Walter?" He asked defensively.

Flora raised an eyebrow, "It also happens to be your name, don't you think having two Walter Corey's in one household will be a little confusing?"

Stubbornly Jarvis shook his head, and Flora smiled, "Well I suppose it could work but its not like you can shorten Walter, I mean other names like William you can have any variety of nickname, Will, Bill etc But that doesn't work with a Walter of course for simplicities sake I could always refer to you as Mr Jarvis!"

"Absolutely not, I have every intention of leaving that name firmly behind me the day we leave here, besides we can always use the child's middle name for everyday use."

"Really, well since you know everything else, tell me maestro what's his middle name?"

Jarvis smiled and checking they were alone pulled her into his arms before kissing her deeply, when he broke the kiss he tightened his hold and hugged her close whispering in her ear, "you can choose his middle name, just promise me nothing to flowery or fancy." 

Reluctantly he released her and they turned and began to walk slowly back to the carriage, Flora deep in thought. Walter was just about to help her in when she turned and asked deadpanned "How about Horatio?" Jarvis was just about to retort with no bloody way when he caught sight of the mischievous twinkle in Flora's eye and the slight quirk in her lips, shaking his head he practically pushed her into the carriage and jumped in after her determined to wreak his revenge for her cruel trick.

In addition to the two most senior staff, another Taplows resident, whom fortunately the couple had not encountered, had also been in town during the afternoon, and was now purposefully striding back towards the house. Although he had sworn her not to remind anyone that it was his birthday the following day, Lizzie was quite determined that Will turning the big 2-0, would be marked by a very special gathering. She had decided, after her last conversation with the under-butler that the idea she had thought up on the spur of the moment initially, wasn't actually such a bad idea, and turned out to be the main aim of her trip into Tappleton that afternoon.

However, that strictly wasn't her sole task, as the new chef Mr. Had been complaining of a lack of cabbage for the evening meal, but was informed by Will that it was at neither of their discretions to allow female members of staff to leave the premises without the consent of (the currently absent) Mrs Ryan.

But when she could stand no more of the newcomer's griping and grumblings, Lizzie took it upon herself to pop out to get some, only telling Grace so she could cover for her. Naturally, Grace wasn't fooled by the whole cabbage collection façade, so asked Lizzie why she really wanted to get into town, to which was the reply 'All will be revealed!' At this Grace stamped her foot as she hated being kept in the dark over any plans, but had trusted her friend's judgement, waving her out the door.

She planned to be there and back within half an hour if she put her proverbial skates on, reasoning that both Mr Jarvis and Mrs Ryan were no where to be found, knowing full well that Will would not seriously reprimand her (especially when he found out that her jaunt was on his behalf), and even if he did, the chef HAD asked her to go.

However, things, never being quite as simple as they are generally anticipated to be, she was well over this half hour, and consequently had now broken into a little trot. Even though she had had quite a tough time in arranging Will's surprise, and secondly the greengrocers had a very limited selection of cabbages, she was resolute not to regret going, even if she were to face a barrage of questions on her return.

This positive frame of mind was unnerved suddenly, as she heard a carriage approaching from behind, in the distance. She swung round, darting back round the bend she had just passed to see a very familiar carriage with one of the Earl's coachmen coming up the hill. A wave of panic came over her as she looked nervously up and down the lane, desperate to find a hiding place. When none were visually forthcoming, she picked up her skirts, and dashed off along the hedge-lined track, the horse and carriage hot on her heels.

This was simply not fair she gasped as she struggled when the incline of the hill increased, she was almost on hands and knees crawling when she reached the top, and could now (worryingly) hear the sound of laughter from the carriage. She stopped dead when she could recognise Mrs Ryan's giggles, like a rabbit caught in a carriage's headlamps, she froze to the spot in the middle of the road, dropping one of the cabbages.

When she heard Jarvis positively roaring "Henry! God forbid, he's not going to have the full six wives as well, Id hope!", she knew she had to move again, and fast. Just as she turned around, she spied a little opening in the hedge, just back down the lane - how the hell did she miss that! Initially, she was reluctant retrace her steps, but she couldn't see a similar gap in front of her. As the carriage was well within eyesight now, she abandoned this inhibition, and practically dived into the hedge, leaving the lowly cabbage just off-centre of the road.

Lizzie wriggled in the undergrowth, it was most uncomfortable, especially as she had landed on a thistle (which she thought quite ironic being Scottish), letting out a yelp, which she prayed to god no one heard. However, her fears appeared to be confirmed when the carriage stopped just yards away from her. When the driver got down, she silently gasped, and tried to lay even lower.  
This wasn't all though, as (a little belated Lizzie thought) Jarvis poked his head out of the carriage window, demanding to know why it had stopped. She saw that his hair was quite dishevelled, but couldn't view that in any deeper a context, as all she could do was tell herself 'This is it, I'll be sacked for sure!' At this point, the young maid was positively hyperventilating, so much so, she didn't hear the coachman's reply, which only served to prolong her nightmare.

But, as she watched the man walk up the lane a few yards, she breathed a little sign of relief that he wasn't going to find her there. All became clear when she saw him bend down to pick up the cabbage she had unwittingly dropped, only realising it was hers when she counted four in her arms, not five. Not only was she missing one, but the other four were pretty grubby now, since these were what she was leaning on in order to peer out of the hedge.

Thankfully, before climbing back into his seat, the driver laid the random cabbage back down, but this time at the side of the road, at least this meant she wouldn't have to explain where the fifth one had go to. Indeed, as the carriage pulled away, Lizzie slowly hauled herself and the damaged vegetables up, and when it was safely out of earshot, she scurried along, scooping up the remaining cabbage, before continuing at an increased pace back to the house.

As she rounded to courtyard slowly, much to her surprise, she came across Will, who was getting the last of Mrs Ryan's bags out of the carriage. At first she didn't notice him, as he was concealed by the coach, but she could hardly escape his presence when he called over to her "And where have we been skulking off to missy?"

"Uuuum" she struggled, and since her trip off site hadn't been discovered yet, she wanted to keep it that way, finally answering "The orangery!"

"Really, I didn't know they grew brambles in there these days" he retorted, reaching up to remove small tell-tale bramble stem, complete with prickly leaf from her hair. "And I certainly don't think we grow them in there!" he added, pointing at the cabbages.

On seeing this, Lizzie blushed. "Okay okay" she conceded "I couldn't stand Mr. Moaning any bloody longer, so I nipped into town"

"Nipped into town! It looks like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards luv!" he mused, gently wiping her forehead where it was scuffed with some dry mud.

"Well, I may as well have!" she cried with a despairing laugh, before proceeding to tell him the whole nearly-got-caught-hiding-in-hedge saga.

As you can probably imagine, this was a tale which highly amused him, responding "Well, I hope these were worth it!" as he reached out, taking the rather unappetising cabbages from her hands, placing them in a wicker basket left in the courtyard.

"Well, what if I were to say they weren't the only things I got there, hmmm?" she teased with a mischievous smile in her face, pattering her fingers up and down his back as he was bend over the basket.

"Really?" he was most intrigued at this, rising up, sliding his arms around her waist.

"Uh-hu" she nodded, her whole face smiling into his.

"I knew it, I KNEW you'd never go all that way for a few measly veg! I told you, no fuss!" he insisted, poking her nose gently

"So you don't want me to make a fuss of you, is that what your saying?" she scoffed, folding her arms in a pretend strop.

"Well, let me think" he mused wrapping his arms back round her waist pulling her toward him, looking down at her. "Maybe just you then!"

The familiar sultry smile returned to her face and her gazed fixed upwardly at him. "Oh, I THINK that can be arranged for such a special occasion!" she admitted as she snaked her arms around his neck, raising both her eyebrows.

Not waiting a second longer, nothing was getting in the way this time, as they were both completely hidden from view by the carriage, he lowered his head and kissed her firmly on the lips. At this she melted, pulling him down toward her, kissing him back, passionately.  
Because Lizzie was quite a bit shorter than him, this got to be a bit of a literal pain in the neck for Will, after a short time. But, as he was reluctant to let her go while there was still enough oxygen left to tide him over, he slid his arms further around her tiny waist, and lifted her off the ground. Both quite enjoyed this, both letting out a little giggle when finally their lips parted.

"You know, I wish birthdays were everyday!" Will breathed heavily, still holding her up, their foreheads locked as they stared into each others eyes close range.

Leaning back a little, poking her tongue out slightly between her prefect teeth, Lizzie asked "Why wait for birthdays?"

"Indeed!" Will chuckled, before engaging her lips again. Eventually, curiosity became too great for the young under-butler, and after placing her back on solid ground, enquired "So what treat awaits me tomorrow? One just as good as this, I hope!"

"Well, you'll just have to wait and see wont you!" she said, teasingly poking his stomach, before doing so all over his upper body. Both giggled at this little play fight, and Will had a surprisingly difficult time trying to grasp both her wrists to stop her.

When he finally did so, he spun her round, but on doing so, she lost her balance, and Will had to catch her before she tumbled to the cobbles. Suspended in a rather diagonal position, him holding her securely, she grinned up at him, mustering all her strength to prevent the urge to kiss him once again taking over. Instead, she just looked up at him, brushed the lock of hair that was dangling down the left side of his face, from his eye and asked "Meet me in the chapel, just after breakfast tomorrow morning?"

"The chapel eh?" he said whimsically, with a little wink.

"Just thank God your birthday isn't on a Sunday this year."

"Oh I am!" he beamed, pulling them back vertical, turning her round in a few little sexy dance steps.

"See you there then" she sighed, before picking up the basket of cabbages, and walking over to the kitchen door, turning back to smile at Will, whose eyes hadn't left her all the way.  
As she walked through the door, Will said to himself in utter elation "yes, yes you will."


	7. Episode 6b

The next morning bloomed bright and crisp the first touch of frost on the ground, covered the grass like a dusting of icing sugar. Whilst most of the staff were still at breakfast Flora Ryan made her way over to the chapel. She had left Walter tucking heartily into his bacon and eggs determined to get her weekly inspection of the Chapel flowers out of the way so that she could spend the saved time putting the finishing touches to the baby blanket. At this thought she smiled slyly, she hadn't told Walter but as she woke up that morning and the perfect name had come to her, it would be amusing over the coming months listening to him trying to guess what the initial stood for.

As she walked towards the chapel she noticed that the hedge gate had been left open, shaking her head she marched over shutting it firmly behind her, making a mental note to scold Johnny whose task it was to make sure all gates were secure otherwise any Tom, Dick or Harry could swan about the estate as they chose or more importantly for the household's chicken supply so could any passing fox. On reaching the chapel she pushed the door open wide and strode purposely towards the alter. Immersed in her own thoughts she didn't see the dishevelled character fast asleep on one of the front pews.

Standing before the beautifully ornate carvings of the Sturges Bourne private chapel Flora thought sadly what a shame it was that her and Walter couldn't be married in these surroundings. However she shook her head at such fanciful notions, it would be unheard of servants being allowed to use a private family chapel, no the village church was good enough for them after all they had being living in sin for months now, the consequences of which on their souls made her shudder. Silently she clasped her hands and prayed hard, please let us not have to pay for it soon can't we have a few years of happiness first.

Suddenly her silent reverie was shattered as a loud clatter behind her caused her to whirl round, her heart in her throat. At first she could not see what or who had caused the loud noise, then suddenly a hand reached up and grasped the back of a pew, followed quickly by another one and then the top of someone's head appeared. In the semi-darkness Flora couldn't make out the face but she heard them groan and utter a sting of foul curses before they heaved themselves off the floor completely. Assuming it was one of the lay workers who had gotten themselves worse the wear for drink and decided to save themselves the long trek home by kipping the night in the chapel, she stalked purposely over to them intent on a serious reprimand.

However she stopped dead in her tracks when the mysterious figure staggered out of the pew and into the aisle blocking her path, Flora gasped as the light from the great stained window illuminated the face of the drunkard for the first time. In shock she backed away her hands held out in front of her, "You!" She gasped looking frantically round her for a way to escape, but her only route was out the main door directly passed the persistent drunk from the pub.

Blurry-eyed William Forest Senior, blinked and tried to clear his double vision, finally he rubbed his face with his sleeve, his hand still tightly wrapped around the gin bottle. Opening his eyes wide he saw a shadowy figure standing at the other end of the church, squinting against the sunlight he assumed it was Will and began to stagger over to him. Then once he was out of the light he realised that it wasn't Will but a well dressed lady, then he recognised her remembering her as the lady he tried to talk to outside the Cock and Bull. He continued to walk towards her and Flora backed kept backing away, however soon she had backed up against the pulpit and could go no further.

She looked around desperate for something to throw, something that would distract him long enough for her to escape and raise the alarm, then her gaze fell on the alter candlesticks. Dashing forward Flora heaved one of the heavy silver candlesticks off the table and turned to face the drunk brandishing it before her like a club a determined look on her face. This caused Bill to pause, the last thing he needed was to get into a fight but there was no way he was leaving Taplows without first wishing his son a happy birthday and no bloody woman was going to come between them again.

"Put it down lass and no one need get hurt!" He growled, "I'm just here on a bit of business and then I'll be on my own merry way, there's no need to make a fuss!"

For a moment Flora considered his words and went to lower the candlestick, but at that moment an impatient Bill went to grab it from her and so she threw it at him with all her strength. It was a good shot although it lacked the power to do any damage but she had succeeded in knocking him off balance, and so Flora made her dash for the doors. However she was only halfway down the aisle when a strong arm grasped her elbow and dragged her back, struggling she lashed out with her elbows and feet determined to free herself from his clutches. Frightened and panicking Flora started to cry out, yelling so loudly for someone to come to her aid that Bill was certain they'd be heard. He managed to anchor one arm round her waist and used his free hand to try and gag her, but Flora was now acting on pure instinct and she bit the soft flesh of his palm hard drawing blood, then sensing weakness she elbowed Bill in the stomach winding him.

Enraged that a woman would have the nerve to act thus Bill lost his temper and releasing Flora he backhanded her hard across the face sending her reeling before grasping her hair and dragging her roughly back down the aisle intent on locking her in the vestry out of sight and trouble. However he found this increasingly difficult as Flora seized hold of the end of a pew and refused to let go, clinging to it as though her life depended on it, which she believed it did. A few moments struggle Bill prised Flora's hands loose and span her round wildly causing her to slam hard into the opposite pew.

For a moment Flora stood almost frozen, bent double over the pew her hand flying immediately to her stomach before her legs gave way and she collapsed on the floor, her head hitting the flagstones with a nasty crack. Bill stood over her a look of shock and pure terror on his face, this wasn't the first time he had stood over a seriously injured woman and the last time he had ended up serving ten years in jail for manslaughter. He had to get out of here before he was spotted and caught, he dashed over to his pew and grabbed his tatty rag bag pausing only briefly to gaze in pity at the woman on the floor, she seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness but before he could turn and leave her eyes focused and locked on his for a moment and she mouthed a single word, "Help!"

Backing towards the doors unable to tear away his gaze he turned and ran as though the devil himself was hot upon his heels. Flora lay on the floor her vision blurring, one hand lay protectively over her stomach but the pain was excruciating it felt like she had been stabbed repeatedly and she realised as she drifted into unconsciousness that she was losing her baby.

A few moments later another Mr Forest was making his way to the chapel, trying to hide his obvious excitement and make his sudden interest in the building look natural and not as highly suspicious as it so obviously would be; the last thing he needed was to get Mr Adams suspicious. Will dreaded to think of the Scottish barbarian's reaction if he actually caught Will and Lizzie together and doing what Will hoped they would be doing, there was no doubt in Will's mind that if they were caught he would be pushing up daisies till judgment day. Slowly he edged around the garden wall heading for the hedge gate, which when he reached was open, giggling to himself that Johnny would be in the dog house later he slipped through the gate closing it quietly behind him. Turning around to face the Chapel Will stopped dead, the front door was wide open and the autumn leaves were slowly being blown inside, what the hell is Lizzie up to? He wondered. Does she want us to get caught, leaving the gate open is bad enough but the chapel doors as well?

Slowly Will walked towards the open doors, a feeling of uneasiness descending, something was very wrong here. When he reached them he gazed into the gloom, at first he could only see a few feet in front of him but then his eyes adjusted and he saw the devastation. Walking further in he noticed something twinkling in the sunlight, bending down he went to pick it up, then quickly withdrew his hand when it drew blood

Sucking on his injured finger, he wondered what the hell was broken glass doing lying all over the chapel floor and why were the pews out of alignment, then looked over at the alter and noticed one of the huge silver candlesticks were missing, we've been burgled he immediately thought and stood up quickly intending to return immediately and raise the alarm but then he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

Whirling round he ran down the aisle towards the front pews then stopped dead aghast at what he found. For a moment he couldn't move, she was lying there so still and there was so much blood, he knew he should be shouting for help or at least checking to see if she was alive or dead but he just couldn't. The memories long repressed came flooding back, him standing helpless over his mother's body, shaking with fear and shock, silent tears running unnoticed down his face. Stop Stop it the rational part of himself screamed in his mind, we have to do something there's no time for this now. Numb Will reached over and with a trembling hand checked for a pulse, it was there weak but steady, however he knew that that could change quickly. Crouching down he took hold of Mrs Ryan and hauled her into his arms ignoring the blood that smeared onto him and staggered as fast as he could back to the house. 

Jarvis smiles, stepping back to admire his handiwork. With a little secret training from the Tappleton carpenter, Harry Biggs (and Sons, although he rarely saw them), and admittedly more than a little help in its construction, the small crib is finally beginning to take shape. It has been no easy task keeping Flora away, to tell a few untruths, because her inquiring mind had meant she had been nosing around his business a little too often for his liking. He had been surprised that his secret meetings with Mr Biggs hadn't been discovered by her, but the staff had done a good job so far in covering for him, especially Johnny who knows just what he is up to hidden away in the woodshed. Jarvis thought that there had been most appropriate because of its obvious wood connection, and that he knows Flora would never find herself there in a month of Sundays. Of course, it would have been easier for him to have gone into town to make it, but he simply doesn't have the time, and her suspicions would have been aroused immediately as to his business there, so for secrecy's sake the woodshed is proving much better.

Mr Biggs had left ten minutes earlier, mornings being the best time to get to work on the crib before the house springs into too much life and Flora notices his absence. Jarvis has stayed a few moments longer, although he knows he probably should have gone back to Flora, as she has been looking a little pale for his liking recently, even though she was still driving him up the wall as usual with her moods and tantrums. He recalls the last incident when she had cried buckets over a small tear in her favourite handkerchief, and although his promises to buy her a new one were most sincere she had turned and yelled at him for 'not understanding' before apologising and letting him have the now very rare treat of afternoon tea. At least not everything is changing then, he muses, chuckling and giving the crib a little nudge to make it swing gently.  
But just as he is about to turn to leave, he hears a furious knocking on the woodshed door. Before he can call out to check it isn't Flora, Johnny swings the door open wide and stands in the doorway, gasping for breath and waving his hands in front of him wildly. Jarvis turns and gulps hard, staring at the lad, but it is as if he doesn't need him to say it. His heart begins to beat manically in his chest as he tries to get some words out, but instead his eyes plead with Johnny for it not to be true.

Johnny wiping his face with grubby hands: Mr Jarvis, come quick! It's Mrs Ryan, she's hurt, the baby, I don't know, Mr Jarvis! 

Without a word the butler pushes past him, the crib suddenly far from his mind. His brain is running far too slowly for him to gather any sort of coherent thought, all he can think about is Flora and getting to her, but he can think ahead just enough to turn to Johnny who is struggling to keep up with him.

Jarvis his voice shaking but still authoritative: Has anyone gone for the doctor!

Johnny panting: Yes, Fred has ridden off into town, sir! Sir, nobody really knows what happened to her, Will Forest found her lying in the chapel………

Jarvis only just about being able to hear Johnny for his heart thumping in his ears: The chapel! Why was she in there so early! I told her to stay in bed, keep warm, drink her tea and not to worry about those damn flowers, but would she listen, no she would not!

Jarvis isn't interested in any response from Johnny, he just needed to say something, anything, he is so angry at her for disobeying him

Jarvis panting as he approaches the house, Johnny still hot on his heels: I told her getting up at the crack of bloody dawn every morning would make her ill, I TOLD her……

Johnny trying to run in front of him to attract his attention, to get him to listen to him: But Mr Jarvis, she was attacked………..!

Jarvis stops dead, grabbing hold of Johnny's arm and jerking the stunned lad towards him

Jarvis shaking Johnny in a mixture of panic, anger and shock: What do you mean, attacked! By whom!

Johnny is almost crying, shaking his head emphatically as he sniffs and bites his bottom lip

Johnny: I…we don't know who it was, sir, but there was lots of blood everywhere, and a candlestick, and broken glass, Mr Jarvis!

Jarvis, his chest tightening as his face flushes, roughly releases Johnny from his grip and without a word turns on his heels and marches even faster towards the house, where once inside the full extent that the chaos of the attack has caused is obvious. On entering the servants quarters, he can only stand for a moment, his legs numb and his stomach cramping into a painful knot. Maids are dashing around, some shouting, others wiping tears from their cheeks, paying no attention to him, until Grace appears, a bundle of blankets and towels in her grasp. She hurries up to him, tugging on his arm to follow her, a look of worry and sadness on her round face

Grace looking frustrated as he continues to stand, staring at her: Mr Jarvis, please! Mrs Ryan needs you, please come with me!

Jarvis suddenly feels he cannot cope with what he may be about to see, he couldn't bear the feeling of helplessness and fear he knows will hit him as soon as he sees her, but Grace and her persistence finally pays off and he follows her slowly. Later he would recall not being able to remember much about the journey from the dining hall to Flora's bedroom, except for the sense of panic around him, it is as if his brain has shut down completely in his own selfishness to protect his own emotions from spinning out of control in front of all of the staff, and worst of all in front of Flora. The next thing he could remember doing is standing a little away from her bed as Grace and Lizzie make her as comfortable as possible until the doctor arrives. Grace keeps looking up, concerned, at Jarvis, obviously noticing that he is not doing anything but just staring in shock at the housekeeper as if his feet are glued to the floor, until he finally spoke

Jarvis quietly, utter sorrow in his voice: Is she asleep?

Grace, already completely fed up with his lack of authority, is even more incensed by such a stupid, pointless and rather obvious question from her usually canny superior, but also rather worried about him She nods, returning to tend Mrs Ryan and willing the doctor to arrive, but as she turns to dampen a towel in a bowl of warm water she is obstructed by Jarvis standing in her way, his eyes locked on Flora's bruised and pale face. Unable to get past, and her emotions running riot, she can't help it. Just can't help shouting

Grace glaring furiously at the butler: Mr Jarvis, if you are not going to be useful, then I suggest you leave, Mrs Ryan needs my care!

Gasping, Grace clasps her hand over her mouth and waited wide-eyed for Jarvis to reprimand her, but instead he shifts his gaze to Grace, a look of desperation and hopelessness in his eyes, then turns and leaves the room, Grace and Lizzie staring after him. It was a further half an hour before the doctor had arrived. He had been tending a rather difficult amputation when Fred had raced into his surgery, desperate for him to hurry to Taplows. Will has disappeared somewhere outside, although nobody knows or really cares at that moment where, even Lizzie, who by now is beginning to put two and two together about the incident and most definitely coming up with four. When the doctor finally arrives, Jarvis greets him with a cursory nod and shows him to Flora's room, completely silent, then manages to build up the energy to tell Grace to go in after him to stay with her

Lizzie meanwhile has fetched a chair for Jarvis so he can sit outside the room rather than having him pacing up and down, or even worse collapsing on the spot. After Grace and the doctor had gone into the bedroom all he can do is stand and stare at the closed door, until Lizzie, not knowing at all what is going through his mind (if indeed anything was), leads him gently over to the chair and sits him down, thrusting a glass of water at him and insisting that he drink it all, but instead he puts it down next to him and buries his head in his hands and stays there, the anxious maid looking on. Her worries are momentarily interrupted by Adams appearing next to her and taking her arm calmly moves her away from Jarvis so he can talk to her

Adams quietly: Any news yet?

Lizzie her eyes darting from side to side, an obvious look of emerging panic on her face: N…no, nothing yet.

Adams frowning in what could only be interpreted as fatherly concern: Are you alright, Elizabeth? I know all of this is a shock but you look terrible.

Lizzie suddenly turning defensive, shaking his grip: I'm fine, father, it's not me you should be worried about! She glances over at the closed bedroom door, gulping hard and nibbling her bottom lip.

A further ten minutes later, Jarvis is still staring at the floor and Adams is leaning against the wall. Neither has said a word to the other, Jarvis just not interested in Adams, wishing he would go away, and the footman not knowing what to say to him anyway. Suddenly the bedroom door opens and Jarvis leaps up from his chair – the first time he has been so animated since he came inside the house – as the doctor emerges, looking very grave. Jarvis' breathing quickens as the doctor makes eye contact with him before indicating to him to follow him down the corridor for some privacy.

Doctor his usually jovial, jokey manner absent: I am not in any position to make judgement on you, but I am right in thinking that you were the father, aren't I, Mr Jarvis?

Jarvis by now absolutely desperate for news: Yes, that's right, I am……but you just said 'were'……

Doctor bowing his head before looking back up at Jarvis' anxious expression: I'm sorry, I really am.

Jarvis backs away slightly, his whole body beginning to shake and his stomach cramps returning. He shakes his head as if in denial before covering his face with his hands. Adams meanwhile can just about make out what the doctor is saying, as can Lizzie who has just returned. On hearing the news she lets out a quiet yelp and buries her face in her father's shoulder, obviously in tears.

Doctor Still to Jarvis: The good news is that Mrs Ryan will make a full recovery, she is just very bruised and battered, but obviously I cannot tell at this stage whether she will be able to conceive again. I am so sorry for your loss. She is sleeping, and I have prescribed something for the pain, but you can go in and see her now. Just make sure she has lots of rest. And I hope the police catch who did this to her.

Jarvis, although has heard the doctor's words, is unable to respond to him very coherently, so Adams steps in, thanking the doctor for his swift attention to Mrs Ryan and offering to show him out. The doctor pats Jarvis sympathetically on the arm, muttering something about returning in a day or two to check on the housekeeper's progress, before exiting with Adams. Jarvis glances at Lizzie, then without a word slowly opens the bedroom door to see Grace holding Flora's hand and feeling her forehead.

Jarvis his voice wracked with emotion: It's fine Grace, I will stay with her a while now. You go about your duties, Mrs Ryan won't want the place to fall apart now, will she?

Grace nodding and moving towards the door: Yes, Mr Jarvis. I will come back a little later with a bit of lunch for you, and Mrs Ryan if she can manage it.

Jarvis tries to smile appreciatively, but instead he looks almost in tears as she hurries past him out of the door, a bundle of blood-stained towels in a basket. He shuts the door after her, then turns slowly to look at Flora, the first time they have been alone since early that morning when they had been so happy together in each other's arms. She is sleeping soundly as he steps towards her bedside, reaching out his hand and taking hers before sitting next to her and kissing her palm. She has a large bandage on the side of her head where it had hit the hard floor, and bruising on her cheek, but yet she looks so peaceful, he thinks, and ironically more beautiful than ever. He runs his hand down the side of her face, tears for Flora as well as himself welling up in his eyes. Jarvis leans forward, kissing her gently on her lips and not knowing what on earth to say to her when she finally wakes and has to face the awful truth. Carefully he lays his hand on her stomach, tears finally flowing down his face as he grips her hand, kissing her knuckles until his tears cascade down her fingers and drip onto her linen sheet.

Jarvis whispering: Oh, Flora, I told you not to go to the chapel! Who could have done this awful thing? I love you so much; we will get through this I know we will.

Flora moans slightly, responding to his grip by gently squeezing his hand, then her eyes flicker open and the attack and the pain suddenly hits her when she looks into Walter's eyes

Jarvis stroking her hair: Oh, Flora my darling, you're awake.

Flora trying to sit up in panic: The baby! My baby, what……!

Jarvis shaking his head, fighting back more tears: Flora, it's gone, you miscarried, please Flora, lie back down, you need rest, the doctor said……

Flora her expression contorted in emotional and physical pain: No! Please no!

Jarvis, not knowing what to do, pulls her towards him gently and hugs her tight as she sobs loudly, grabbing his jacket and burying her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as she repeats 'no!' over and over. Her sorrow is so overwhelming that Jarvis feels his very soul has been pierced, and he cries silently for her while desperately wanting to be strong and to say all those supporting words he should. He wants to take her pain, feel it all himself, to stop her heart from breaking in two. He feels like nothing will ever be the same again, but for now all he can do is to keep holding her until she exhausts herself through grief and needs to sleep again. Felix Kraus suddenly felt very, very far away

Outside the room, Lizzie is stood on her own, listening to the loud sobbing coming from Mrs Ryan's room as the panic and desperation at her own stupidity rises in her stomach. She thinks she is about to vomit when Will hurries towards her, spinning her round, blood still smeared on his uniform

Will wide-eyed, his hair ruffled: How is she? What did the doctor say?

Lizzie: Where have you been! The baby, she's lost it, Mr Jarvis is in with her now, it's awful, Will.

Will's expression turns to one of fury, clenching his fists and for the first time making Lizzie genuinely afraid of him. He turns to her, his eyes bulging and his face reddening in his rage

Will: When I catch whoever did this I'll kill them! I'll smash their brains in! God, it makes me sick, SICK!

Before Lizzie can answer or soothe him with her touch, he turns and storms back down the corridor, almost as if knowing subconsciously Lizzie had something to do with it.

Lizzie her guilt overwhelming her: Will! Will, come back!

Will staggered across the gravel at the rear of the house, almost as distraught as what his superior was, as for Will, the whole experience was the re-living or a very personal tragedy. His eyes fixed down at the ground, in a trance, he flashbacked between discovering the housekeeper lying in a pool of blood less than an hour earlier, and the all too familiar scene of his mother, that met him on emerging from underneath his childhood sitting room table and chairs. All those years ago he'd waited until the room fell silent, and his father had slammed the door behind him, before quickly venturing out, to seek out his mother. She lay motionless on the floor, blood seeping from her head (which was resting on her outstretched arm, where she'd fallen), soaking her beautiful light brown hair, her green eyes wide open, unblinking. That morning however, he had remained almost as motionless as Flora, momentarily having to battle his own demons, before his body would allow him to attend the casualty.

As he took her in his arms, he was determined that this time he wasn't going to be too late, that there was something he could do, and by god he was going to do it. However, getting her to the house was his one and only instinct, after that, he now cursed himself for not knowing what else to have done. He thanked god that Grace was full of her usual common sense, she knew exactly what to do (well, the best she could under the most unexpected circumstances). After hearing the awful news from Lizzie, he was plunged into deep in shock, he didn't want to be a hindrance, so had wandered outside to gather himself. But any positive thoughts he had hoped to muster instantly evaporated when it dawned on him 'why couldn't it have been me!' WHY, couldn't he have been just a few moments earlier, WHY did he have to change his damned shirt, when if he hadn't, all this may never have happened.!

Unable to feel more guilty than if he had been the perpetrator himself, Will suddenly found himself a goal, picking up his pace, charging purposefully back towards the scene of the crime. He told himself that the best and indeed only thing he could do was to search the chapel, snuff out anyone who maybe there, or at least piece together any shred of evidence as to suggest whom the assailant may have been. As he shut the gate behind him, he started to feel very nervous at what he may find next- just who or more accurately what could have done this? What kind of person assaults a defenceless, and indeed pregnant woman? At this one name did spring to mind, but Will was so caught up in what he was doing, he didn't give that eventuality half, let alone a second thought. Which is why, even after what had gone on back then, on approaching the chapel door, he had absolutely no anticipation of what was about to occur.

As he reached out cautiously to grasp the large cast iron handle on the huge dark oak door of the church, he heard twigs crackling and leaves rustling, but on spinning around, saw a few of the earliest autumn leaves being gently blown down the path leading to the back of the church. He let out a sigh of relief, and a little snigger at how the simplest of things had just put him on edge.  
However, as he turned the handle, and began to push the door forwards as quietly as he could (in order not to alert anyone in there as to his presence), he heard a sound he could not have mistaken and certain could not ignore. At that moment, his eyes widened, he loosened his grip on the handle, and breathed in excessively as he turned around once more, this time sure that he was not alone.

He crept forward, poking his head around the porch of the church door, looking both ways before advancing out into the open. As he turned right to walk back the way he came, a most definite snapping of a branch in the opposite direction, caused him to freeze and glance at lightening speed over his left shoulder. Someone was there, he was no convinced of that and after only a few seconds of hesitation resolved that he must at least get a look at whoever it was. Taking a deep breath, he progressed in the direction of the movement, initially at a strong pace, telling himself that it would be one of the gardeners, doing some pruning, or, or one of the graveyard lads, preparing another plot for one of the chapel's patrons from the village. But as he was just about to round the back of the church, he slowed right down, considering the other side of the coin.

Just what was he going to do? He wasn't all that big, and though he'd never admit it, wasn't terribly strong either, so even if he did find Mrs Ryan's attack, what was to say that he wouldn't get the same treatment, if not worse? He pondered that unsettling thought momentarily, but then, in the least self act of his life, he charged around the corner. Nothing, not a sausage met him there, just a few rows of rather ancient and highly illegible gravestones. Will felt almost disappointed, as he quickly scanned the scene, quite put out that he hadn't actually found anyone, especially after plucking up the courage for a confrontation. At this thought, he snored, and shaking his head, rubbing his forehead with his right index finger, he looked down at the ground.

However, it was in this position that he noticed some movement, very slight movement out the corner of his eye. His breath caught in his throat, but as he'd come this far, he couldn't turn back now. With this determined thought in mind, he slowly creped towards the larger headstones, which belonged to the household's family, as he was sure someone had just ducked behind one of the larger memorials.

His fears were confirmed, as on further inspection, he spied the side of someones arm, just visible at his angle of approach. Will stopped dead at this, and took a deep breath before carrying on his course. By now the culprit concealed (or so he thought) behind the tombstone was well and truly aware that he was not alone, and his discovery was imminent. The old drunk's eyes began to flicker from side to side, his breathing becoming louder on more constrained as pushed himself back against the stone slab, drawing in his arms and legs closer to his heavily intoxicated body, but it was too late. Will had decided that that moment was as good as any other to announce his presence, as he was at a safe distance, but one close enough to prevent the delinquent's escape.

"Show yourself U coward!" he declared.

At this, the ruffian looked sharply over his right shoulder, expecting the person to whom the voice belonged, to appear. But when they didn't, he chose to remain silent, hoping against hope that whoever it was would be disillusioned , and leave him be. No such luck, as after waiting a moment or two, Will stalked closer to the stone, desperately wanting to peer over it, but reminded himself to keep his distance, and yelled "There's no way out , we've got you surrounded!" Although this was totally fictitious, it seemed to have the desired effect, as he could heard some movement. This wasn't quick enough for Will's liking, so he called out to "Come on lads, we've got him now!"

At this, he saw a hand grasp the top of the gravestone, and a rather gruff voice shout angrily "Alright alright!" At this Will looked down at the ground, preparing himself for what he would do next, as he could here the man groan as he struggled to haul himself up. But on looking up quickly, to face the attacker straight in the eyes, Will gasped, his jaw dropping, his eyes unable to believe what they now beheld.

The pair of them just stood, dumbfounded, before the elder ventured a gravely 'William?"

At the mention of his cursed name, Will's facial expression changed from one of utter astonishment, to one of seething anger. "I might have bloody known!" he snarled through gritted teeth, before lunging at his father, with unrestrained fury.

Not being quite so inebriated as he appeared to be, Bill managed to dodge his sons fist, but this rapid movement put him off balance, sending him crashing into the headstone which was all that separated the two. "Now Will my lad, lets just ca-" he started, holding his hands up to protest once he'd managed to steady himself.

"Don't you DARE call me that. I am not YOUR anything!" Will spat venomously.

"Now come on, that's hardly fair!" the old man scoffed, nodding his head before looking down at the ground.

He did this for just the amount of time it took Will to round the stone, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, screaming "FAIR? When has anything been bloody fair?" With that last comment, Will ram-raded his father up against the church wall, which happened to be a mere few feet away.

As the wall was far from flat, Bill winced as he jarred his back when it slammed against the cold, hard stone, where Will held him, now by the throat, quite possibly with the intent to strangle the bully with his bare hands. So tight was his grip, that it wasn't until the third time of asking that Will was able to make out what he was saying.

"IS she alright! - What the blood hell do you care!" Will yelled, this false concern wound him up further, causing him to tighten his grip. "You didn't exactly stick around to find that out last time did you? Eh?" At this, the old man attempted to answer the accusation, but all he could do was gulp hard and glare as his son.

"Oh I'm sorry, was that a no! Too damned right! You just bloody left her there didn't you?" Will spat, his brow now so furrowed he could barely see. Unable to bare the stench of regurgitated gin any longer, he released his near-choking father, throwing him to the ground. "DIDN'T YOU!" He gave him a sharp kick for good measure, before turning his back on him, running his hands through his hair, staring up at the sky in despair.

William Forrest Senior wriggled on the floor, coughing uncontrollably, one hand holding at his throat, the other across his throbbing stomach. "Is she alright!" he gasped.

This persistence grated on Will's nerves, but he turned round, grasping one of the headstones to lean on, and snarled "Yeah, this time she'll live, but that doesn't save mum does it!"

Clambering to his feet, clinging to the wall to support himself, Bill retorted, in a stern voice. "Your mother…" at this, Will stared at him daggers, causing him to pause with"

Will couldn't believe what he was now hearing, was he saying that all this had been his wife's fault! This he would not stand for. "You bastard! Don't you DARE speak ill of her! SHE was difficult to life with - SHE was a million times the parent U ever were?"

Bill moved to explain, but Will cut him off "What? Was it, the way her cheek bruised your knuckles on impact! The fact she just couldn't get the bloodstains out of the carpet well enough for you! Or maybe, just MAYBE, were her screams not painful enough? You know, you really should get your ears checked, because they still ring in mine just FINE!"

Bill didn't know quite what to say at this. He was a little enraged that his son should have the gumption to talk to him in such a manner, but there was something, a niggling something that told him that he was right. "I… I'm sorry you had to hear those son"

"Your SORRY? It's a bit bloody late for that now isn't it! Your cock and bull lies didn't fool the judge last time, and you can bet your bottom dollar they're not going to work this time! You know what?" Will said robustly, striding towards his father, "They really are gonna throw away the key this time, that's if they don't hang you first!"

"The …they can't!" Bill stammered, taken aback at those harsh words. "You said she was going to be fine!" he panicked, grabbing Will by his jacket lapels, shaking him vigorously.

Though he couldn't stand his father's touch, he wanted to have an up-close view of his face when he told him "She was pregnant." Will in a deathly tone of voice. At this, he shook his fathers grip, stepping back, straightening his jacket before adding "That goes down as murder in my book, and I'm sure the courts would agree, especially given YOUR background"

"But, it was an accident! She was shouting, I was just trying to keep her quiet!"

"Well you almost silenced her good and proper, but hey, two out of three isn't bad! Accident? The only ACCIDENT when your involved is YOU, you're a waste of space, and I hope you get everything that's coming to you - justice can't be blind twice!"

Bill didn't really catch all that, as he was still reeling at the prospect of going back behind bars, or worse, as his own son seemed to be intent on. "I cant, I cant go back in there - you don't know what its like!" he cried desperately.

"Well that's what comes of never having murdered someone, and it WILL be murder, I'll see to that this time!" Will vowed, as he turned away from his father once more.

"You, you wouldn't turn your own father in, you cant despise me that much!"

"No, no Im not." he said with a sigh, shaking his head before turning round. "I wont need to, because your going to do that yourself, I don't want ANYONE around here knowing that I have anything to do with you, because as far as Im concerned, I don't HAVE a father!"

At this absurdity, Bill had heard enough, after that he wasn't going to bow and scrape to his offspring any longer. "You really are soft in the head aren't you? You don't seriously expect me to-"  
Will was disinterested in whatever the man had to say, HE was laying down the law now. "I'll give you half a hour, to drag your sorry carcass down to the village and turn yourself in"

"No bloody way-" Bill protested, with a little chuckle

"Coz if U don't (Will raised his tone), they'll be no need for the hangman and his noose… " looking his father menacingly in the eye "coz I'll do the honours personally!"

"You couldn't!" his father scoffed

" Ohhh, It'd be my pleasure, DAD!" Will ensured him, in a tone of deep satisfaction.

On seeing the look of hatred in his son's eyes, this was no longer a laughing matter for Bill, who looked down at the ground, a condemned man in all lights, just where could he run to in the allotted time? As this dawned on the old man, Will emerged behind him, whispering maliciously in his ear "I want the police back here within half an hour, and if they do not, I'll find you, and drag you down there myself, dead or alive, do you hear me!" Realising all was really lost, he nodded, which received only a "good" from Will before he stalked off back to the house.

However, a moment later he remerged, brandishing some rope "Actually, its not as if I can trust you to do that! Trust you - ha! I think I'll do that now, no time like the present is there!" he mused before he socked his father hard in the stomach, causing him to fall to the floor. At this, he bound his fathers hands, and hauled him up roughly, before leading him off down the overgrown path towards Tappleton.

A few hours later and Jarvis sat on the edge of the bed an emotionally exhausted Flora fast asleep in his arms, bending down slightly he kissed the top of her head and tightened his grip, pulling her even closer. He knew that he ought to be the strong one, that he should be the one making things easier for her, especially after the added ordeal of how she lost the baby, this hadn't been a simple miscarriage in his eyes it was murder, plain and simple. For a moment his eyes burned, if he ever caught the one responsible he wouldn't wait for the long encompassing arm of the law, no he would find an appropriate way to pay them back, them and anyone involved. After all how could someone have gotten into such a well protected place without being spotted by anyone unless they had help? Jarvis gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, when he found out who that little low life was they'd wish they'd never been born!

Slowly Flora started to stir, and Jarvis worried that he movements might have disturbed her, lifted a hand and ran it soothingly over her hair, whispering in her ear to go back to sleep. Dozily Flora turned over, wincing slightly at the pain before snuggling up on his chest, her fingers latching onto the buttons of his waistcoat like a child to their security blanket. Then she muttered something into his chest so quietly he barely caught it, "I'm so sorry Walter!" she mumbled.

Grasping her chin firmly Jarvis forced her to look at him, her eyes were brimming with fresh tears and Jarvis found it difficult to stop more from springing to his, instead he focused on his anger towards the culprit and that helped to keep him focused. "It is not your fault, do you hear me? There was nothing different that you could have done, it's all the fault of the bastard who did this to you!"

For a moment they were silent, Jarvis rubbing Flora's back soothingly as she cried into his waistcoat, then when she had once more exhausted herself and was becoming sleepy Jarvis could not wait any longer. "Flora I need to know what happened, I keep imagining it in my head and every time it gets worse and worse, I have to know were you assaulted in any other way…..?" Jarvis paused unable to continue, the thought of that on top of everything else she had gone through made him sick to his stomach.

Flora paused before answering, is that what is really bothering him? "I suppose you mean, did he rape me? No Walter he didn't, he just beat the living daylights out of me and killed my baby!" Then when Jarvis didn't answer, she added her voice taking on a bitter and sarcastic tone, "Is that what you're really worried about? That I might be damaged goods, contaminated?"

Jarvis just sat there stunned, he had never seen Flora like this her eyes were wild and she was furious. "Well, is it? I suppose deep down your relieved, after all there is no need to marry me now, so you might as well take this back…" She stopped mid sentence and grasped at his ring, pulling off of her finger and went to hand it back, but Jarvis had finally snapped out of his stupor and realised she was just distraught and angry hitting out at him because he was the closest.

Taking the proffered ring he grasped her left hand and forced it back onto her finger, "Never ever take that off again!" He growled softly in her ear, before gently encircling her with his arms and pulling her back against him.

"I'm sorry. I just……." Flora began. "I feel so helpless Walter, there is nothing I can do!"

After a few moments Jarvis spoke, his voice low but firm. "Yes there is Flora! You can help me catch who did this to us, I need to know what they looked like anything that might give us a clue."

Dozy once more Flora had to think hard, the blow to her head was not making things any easier and she remembered things in bits and pieces then suddenly she blurted out, "I'd seen him before, at the pub, he was one of the drunks outside, the one who wouldn't stop following me! But despite that he looked so familiar….." She trailed off a look of concentration on her face.

"What do you mean?" Jarvis insisted.

"Well when I first saw him at the pub I thought the same, in fact at first I even thought it was him and that he's skived the day off work to go the pub, but on second glance I realised it couldn't be and just brushed it off to coincidence……"

"WHO?" Jarvis bellowed, his anger rising once more. "Who did that vagabond look like?"

Flora hesitated for a moment she had hardly ever seen Walter angry but even she had never seen him this mad before,

"Will…. They have the same eyes." At that last statement Flora shuddered, obviously reliving the experiences from earlier in her mind.

Normally Jarvis would have noticed, but he was consumed by fury. He stood up, slowly lowering Flora back onto the bed, and turned determined to get the truth out of his under-butler. Flora's hand caught his and for a moment he paused, looking down at her, "Walter please don't do anything you will regret," Flora pleaded, "You know Will, he would never intentionally put me or anyone in any danger…."

But her words fell on deaf ears, Jarvis was not moved by her protestations, he just knew deep down that he was right and that William Forest was the key to this whole mystery and if he was right by the end of the day that boy was going to wish he'd never been born!

Jarvis had been called up to see the Earl, who is complaining about stomach pains and a terrible headache, so he thought the best thing to do was convince him he needed a good sleep and he'd feel right as rain by evening. Once he has left the earl to his own devices in his room, he vows to first and foremost search out the currently illusive Mr Forest and make his life a misery. He storms into the servants quarters, where the lower staff are gathered and are gossiping about who may have attacked Mrs Ryan. Lizzie is quiet but Grace and Charlotte are speculating that it may have been an estate worker, or even a poacher who wandered too close to the house, but they fall silent when they notice Jarvis standing right behind them, having failed to register telling stares from the other maids who saw him approach, his face like thunder

Jarvis booming, causing Grace to jump: Sorry to interrupt this most fascinating interpretation of events, but has anyone seen Mr Forest?

Grace trying to absolve herself: Yes, he's cleaning the silverwear, Mr Jarvis…..

But before Grace can say any more Jarvis orders them to get back to work and marches out again, leaving the maids exchanging worried glances and kneading bread. Jarvis discovers Will furiously polishing a fish slice like his life depended on it until it is gleaming. Jarvis is just about to go in, but George appears, whistling

Jarvis blocking his path and growling: Mr Cosmo, I suggest you stay away, this doesn't concern you. Slams door in George's face just as Adams approaches down the corridor

Adams stopping next to him: What's up, Georgie, not got enough work to do?

George whispering: It's Jarvis, he looks furious, think he's going to shout at…….

Suddenly they both hear Jarvis' voice booming through the closed door. Adams cannot contain his glee when he hears a pathetic voice belonging to Will Forest begging the butler to listen

Cut to room

Jarvis has backed Will into a corner and is standing over him, as the under-butler cowers away from him, his arm shielding his body as if Jarvis is about to lash out at him. And he has every reason to fear such a reprisal. For the first time ever Will is feeling the full wrath of Mr Jarvis and he is genuinely petrified of him. He had seen his fight with Kraus, and how the chef had come off worse; he knows what the butler is capable of, especially where Flora is concerned, but although he feels like he needs some sort of punishment for having such a rogue father, deep down he doesn't relish the thought of his third severe beating in less than a year

Jarvis yelling in Will's face: Did you know he was there! Well, did you!

Will shaking and waving his hands in front of him: No, I swear, I….

Jarvis grabs him by his waistcoat and hauls him up, smacking him hard against the wall. Although Will is taller than Jarvis, Will's knees buckle and he slides a little way down the wall, feeling unable to defend himself, or his father

Jarvis hatred in his eyes: You must think I'm bloody stupid! Thought it was a good idea to hide your father in the church, did you! Bringing damn convicts here and stowing them away, trying to hide their guilt, and then look what happens!

Will his usually cool expression crumpled into one of desperation and guilt: No, I didn't know he was there, I've never wanted anything to do with him! I don't know how he got in!

It is as if Jarvis has no intention of listening to any reasoning from Will, not caring in the slightest if he might be telling the truth but wanting to blame someone, anyone near, and wanting to take out all the upset and despair of the day out on them. In his rage Jarvis roughly takes hold of Will by his lapels and drags him over to the chair he had been sitting in to polish the silver, and forcefully shoves him into it, Will's arms flying out and crashing into cutlery, serving jugs and plates and causing them to clatter noisily onto the floor 

Will breathing heavily, his face flushed and his voice shaking: Look, when I found out what had happened to Mrs Ryan I went straight to the chapel and caught him, took him into Tappleton and turned him in, told him he disgusts me and he should never have shown his face around here!

Jarvis as if determined to twist everything so the blame lay firmly with Will: I suppose you knew he was out of prison did you!

Will desperation in his wide eyes: Yes, I knew, I…….

Jarvis leaning in close and shaking him firmly: And did you know he had come back to find you! Eh! Tell me!

Will shaking his head but fed up with the lies: Y….yes, I knew he had been up here before, but I thought he'd gone away for good, sir, I promise!

Jarvis, smacking Will hard back into the chair, staggers backwards slightly, staring at his under-butler in disbelief and fury. He doesn't speak for a moment or two, as Will slumps further back into the chair, his nice uniform all crumpled. He hadn't thought Jarvis could become any more enraged, but when Jarvis points at him, gritting his teeth and lowering his voice to such a level that seemed to Will more scary than shouting, he knows this is the calm before the second storm

Jarvis pacing before stopping to stare at Will: So you're telling me – you're telling me that he had been here before and you KNEW? You bloody well knew! And you didn't tell me? You knew him being around was putting all our lives in danger, including Mrs Ryan's, and you did NOTHING!

Will: Yes, I knew, but…….

But before Will can finish his sentence, Jarvis lunges towards him, gripping the arms of the chair and coming up so close to Will that he cringes, shutting his eyes and wanting to be somewhere, anywhere else but here

Jarvis as if unable to control the words tumbling out of his mouth: I always knew what your father did to your mother, and often wondered if you would turn out the same! Like father like son, I'm sure! I bet you planned this with him, wanting some sick, perverted revenge!

Will confused and almost hyperventilating: Revenge, sir, for what? That's ridiculous!

Jarvis grabbing Will by the hair and forcing his head back so it banged harshly on the top of the chair: Is it, Mr Forest? Is it so ridiculous! Oh I've seen the way you look at her, like some lovesick schoolboy! You may very well have some sort of disgusting 'thing' going with Elizabeth McDuff but I know!

Will his eyes widening further as he shakes his head furiously: No, that's not true, it would be improper, not Mrs Ryan, no never!

Will, unsure how convincing he is sounding, gives up speaking and decides it best to ride out Jarvis' wrath. Arguing back over Mrs Ryan could make him look even more guilty, although he is sure that Jarvis doesn't know about the kiss. If he did, he is convinced that in Jarvis' current state he would probably be unable to walk ever again, or worse.

Jarvis Not really hearing Will: Oh I know men like you! If you can't get what you want then you use violence and murder, letting your jealousy get the better of you! Well, I think it's about time someone gave you a taste of your own medicine, Mr Forest!

Jarvis raises his fist, ready to plant it firmly in the side of Will's cheek, but Will speaks just before the first dreaded blow lands

Will raising his arms to protect himself, but his voice stern for the first time: That's right, Mr Jarvis, lower yourself to my father's level!

Jarvis stops, his fist still raised, and glares as Will continues, tears streaming down the under-butler's cheeks

Will: Come on, give me the beating I deserve, remind me of what it was like when I was a child, when he kicked and thumped me until I began wetting the bed, then kicked and thumped me more as punishment! I loved my mother, sir, and he can rot then hang and I won't bat an eyelid. I am so sorry about Mrs Ryan, about your baby. 

Will tails off as Jarvis lowers his fist, his face filled with disgust, both for what he was about to do and for calling Will a murderer. He should never have lost his self-control like that. Even still, Will had been very careless and because of this had a hand in his baby's death, and this meant he had to be taught a very good lesson one way or another

Jarvis standing up, looking Will up and down: Right then, Mr Forest, get your snivelling body up and on your feet!

Will obeys, hoping that all will happen is that he will be told he has to take on extra chores as his punishment

Jarvis pausing for a second before speaking: Now strip!

Will his face crumbling: Strip sir? 

Jarvis raising his eyebrows: Yes, strip off your uniform, right down to your undergarments, Mr Forest. You are not fit to wear the uniform of under-butler, and I must have been mad to think otherwise!

Will trying to reason: But sir……..

Jarvis stepping close to him: Mr Forest, I should sack you on the spot without character, but I'm feeling in a lenient mood today.

Will resists the urge to say 'could've fooled me' and slowly takes off his jacket

Will not really wanting to hear the answer: Are you demoting me, sir? Back to first footman?

Jarvis smiling slightly, beginning to enjoy Will's discomfort: Oh yes I am most certainly demoting you, Mr Forest, but to first footman? I don't think you will be seeing much of your usual colleagues for some time.

Will shuts his eyes, lowering his head and breathing deeply as Jarvis continues, his voice quiet but still full of distain

Jarvis: First footman would be all too easy for you, Mr Forest, and Mr Finch needs an assistant so you'll do for now.

Will sighing furiously then begging with Jarvis: Mr Finch, sir! You are joking, aren't you!

Jarvis: I've never been more serious. A good spell in the scullery may teach you a few things, including a few new skills like how to skin a rabbit, or whatever it is they do in there.

Will grabbing Jarvis by the arm: But sir! For how long?

Jarvis: As long as it takes, now take your hand off me and continue to strip, Mr Forest, don't try my patience any longer or you won't find yourself in a job at all! Mr Adams will be promoted back to my deputy and Mr Matkin will take up the position of first footman.

Will huffs, scratching his head before roughly taking off his uniform as Jarvis continues to brief him on his new position

Jarvis: You will report to Mr Finch at 6am, and he will instruct you on your duties for the day, and you will have one break in the afternoon. You will more than likely find that you will be working till 10 at night, so make sure you don't socialise too much in the evenings from now on. He pauses then turns to Will again, in an aside Not that any of your former colleagues will want to talk to you much now anyway.

Will, a sour look on his face, throws his uniform onto the chair, and stands uncomfortably in his underwear, awaiting further instruction to his fate. He can't bear the thought of Lizzie seeing him like this, and the idea of Adams smirking in his face is one he can't even begin to contemplate

Jarvis: You will be paid less than a housemaid and I expect to hear only good reports from Mr Finch, and as you may know he is very much the perfectionist and not someone to be trifled with. And I hear he MAKES very good trifle too.

Will isn't in the mood for jokes. He goes to pick up the uniform but Jarvis stops him, shaking his head and tutting

Jarvis: No, no, Mr Forest, leave that there. I want you to go straight to Mr Finch and tell him you will need a scullery uniform, if indeed you can call it that, but make sure you pass right through the servants quarters first, I am going to make an example of you!

Will skirts past the butler, his face contorted into a vicious snarl as he catches Jarvis' eye and exits the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Jarvis alone to ponder whether he has done the right thing or not. He slowly picks up the silverwear on the floor, checking for scratches, then sits down in the chair, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands, letting out a deep sigh

Cut to the corridor. Once outside Will is startled to see Adams and George standing right in front of him. George, open-mouthed after hearing the whole sorry conversation, mumbles something about having to dash off but Will stares at him coldly

Will obviously embarrassed and belittled by his lack of uniform: Oh, so you've both had a good laugh have you! Heard everything I bet! George, I thought you were a mate!

Instead of telling his friend not to worry, and that he supports him all the way, George just glances from Will to a smirking Adams then turns, practically running down the corridor as Will calls out to him 'well, thanks a bunch, I'll remember this!'  
He starts to hurry in the other direction, desperate to get out before having to face Mr Finch, but Adams catches him by the arm, pulling him in

Adams quietly, sarcasm and spite in his voice: So I see you literally got a dressing down then, laddie!

Will shaking his grip furiously: Gerroff me!

Adams tightening his grip: Well, I'm glad you got what was coming to you! Messing around with my daughter, then bringing a killer here to Taplows! Well Lizzie certainly won't be interested in you now! My, my, you're a lucky sod, if I'd have been Jarvis I'd have…….

Just then, the door is flung open and Jarvis appears in the doorway. He folds his arms and looks at Adams then Will, tapping his foot impatiently

Jarvis: Mr Forest, why are you still here? And Mr Adams, come with me, I want to speak to you in my office.

He stalks off down the corridor, only glancing back to see Adams muttering something else inaudible to Will, before winking at him and making Will's lip curl in hate. The two men part, William Forest a broken man and Andrew Adams thinking, all of a sudden, that life couldn't get any better

When Jarvis had said report to Mr Finch, to begin duties at 6am, Will had at least been able to console himself with the fact that he now had the remainder of the evening off, with which to try to make sense of and begin to get over what had happened that day. But after the humiliation of traipsing through the servants quarters, less than half dressed, and even less amused, Will was greeted by further bad news on his arrival.

It just so happened, that Mr Finch's deputy, Alfie Butcher, had gone down with suspected food poisoning, and so had been strictly prohibited from any duties involving food preparation, so Will was urgently required to take up his role. Whereas the title of Senior Scullion may have been more appealing to the ex-under butler than your bog-standard scullery worker, this position of (some) authority, came with its extra responsibilities, which Will was to find out.

Alfie wasn't known as Butcher by name, butcher by nature for nothing, as Will had just spent the last half an hour carving up (or rather hacking up, as he didn't have a clue what he was doing) a pig, that hung from one of the metal spikes in the scullery. Whereas the former thoroughly enjoyed this task, after even this short time, Will was convinced he couldn't face a bacon sandwich in the morning, if indeed, he was still entitled to one, under Mr Finch's regime.

Due to a combination of pondering this notion, and trying to keep his breakfast down (as what with all the commotion, he had missed lunch), he failed to notice a familiar face standing in the doorway, unsure what to say, at the sight of Will in such surroundings. Finally, they mused, trying to break the ice "I take it thats the pig's blood, and not Jarvis'", indicating to Will's blood splattered apron.

"Depends which one you'd call a pig, I spose." Will retorted in a dry sarcastic tone. "Why are you here? You shouldn't be, its no place for you"

"Its where you are these days" Lizzie said genuinely, before moving forward, down the step, shutting the door behind her.

"You've heard then?" he added after a moment or two of uneasy silence.

"Well, yes, I didn't know where to find you" Lizzie answered timidly, nodding her head.

"Bet he enjoyed that, didn't he!" Will scoffed, turning away from her, picking up the meat cleaver, slamming it down on the chopping board, as it sliced through the pork, making the maid jump.

"Who enjoyed what?" she asked, clearly confused.

Pausing for a second "Your father, telling you just how much of a worthless trouble maker I am!", before resuming chopping.

"NO! He hasn't said a word to me-"

"Oh, he will!" Will chipped in

"Well if he does, I shan't listen to him - do you think I would!" she cried, running around the table to face him, the table between them.

At this, Will just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.  
Lizzie knew that this childishness was just in response to the situation he now found himself in, so chose to ignore it, informing him "Anyway, it wasn't him, it was Grace who told me"

"Oh nice one George!" Will scoffed, before murmuring something along the lines of "keeping his bloody trap shut"

"Well….. (hesitating) she said Johnny told her."

"Johnny, how the hell … christ, even JOHNNY knows!" Will cursed, throwing the huge knife down onto the table in frustration, with such a force, it slid across the table, stopping inches from Lizzie, who lept back. "Who else knows! Or would it be quicker to list those who don't!"

After taking a large gulp, she continued "I think …, it appears I was one of the last-"

"Fan-bloody-tastic - so they all think I send birthday invites out to murders do they!"

"I'm not going to lie to you Will …" Lizzie began, in a sterner tone, as she walked around the table towards him "They're not best pleased"

"Oh and I'm ecstatic am I! So they think its all my fault as well do they?" he said dejectedly, as he lent on the table with both hands, staring down at it.

"They'll come round in time, and its NOT your fault, I know that." she said assuredly, tilting her head, to catch his eye.

"Not if bloody Jarvis had anything to do with it, he's convinced ….. Dya know, he even accused me of orchestrating the whole thing out of jealousy (tsk!) - the man's lost it!"

"Well, he has just lost his child." Lizzie tried to reason, before her mind flipped back to the jealousy part. "What do you mean out of jealousy?"

Forgetting who he was talking to for a moment, Will just blurted out "You've only got to look at Mrs Ryan sideways and he thinks …." suddenly remembering it was Lizzie.

"He thinks what!" Lizzie half-screamed

"Well you know …" he managed to get out, before trailing off

Lizzie knew exactly what he meant, and didn't like it, so she demanded to know "Well, do you 'look at her sideways'!"

"No!" Will protested. This gained a very sceptical stare from Lizzie, who obviously wasn't buying that, so he decided to come clean (well, not on everything) "Okay, okay, I used to" he admitted.

At this Lizzie gasped, turning away from Will to look out the window. "Really?" she huffed

For a moment, Will didn't know what to say, instead wishing he'd never said a thing. However, despite the difficulty of this conversation, he didn't for one second regret his actions with the housekeeper in the gazebo, but still had no intention of confessing these - as that really would have been stupid.

Lizzie stood at the window fuming, arms folded, breathing heavily through her nose, eyes fixed forwards. She suddenly felt Wills arms around her, grasping her hands. She looked back over her shoulder nervously, panicking at the thought of the blood on his apron smearing the back of her dress, but thankfully, he'd taken it off, while she was in her trance.

At first she struggled a little, furious at him, but he held her tight. "Lets hear it then?" she said in a low tone of voice, but with a strong hint of disdain, leaning back against him, resting her head on his left shoulder, though keeping her eyes away from his.

"I USED TO Liz, when I first came here, everyone did." At this lame excuse Lizzie sniggered, prompting Will to try harder. "But do you know what?" he said sincerely, spinning her round slowly as he did so, "Since you showed up here, I haven't looked at her, or any other woman 'sideways' twice!" he assured her, titling his head to the side, drawing her gaze into his.

They stood still for a few moments, her staring up at him hard, trying to read him, testing him to see if he'd flinch. When he didn't, she was adequately content that he was speaking the truth, nodding her head, and generating a shaky fragile smile to acknowledge this. Will returned the smile, the first of the day (well, first post crisis) , pulling her closer towards him, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead.

At this, they wrapped their arms round one another, her burying her head in his chest, him resting his chin on her head. Will heard a faint 'Happy Birthday', which provoked a giggle, which soon became infectious, the two beginning a tittering laugh at the rather shambolic day, Will sighing "Its all been such a god-awful mess"

For once, Lizzie had nothing positive to say to this, the day had been dreadfully tragic. "Do they all hate me, do they all think its my fault?" Will enquired gloomily.

At this, Lizzie pulled away, leaning back, still in his arms, looking him straight in the eye. "Will, they do not hate you, its just been a terrible shock, theyre looking for someone to blame"

"And they've rested that on me have they, never mind my murderous father, but on the other hand - like father like son, that's what Jarvis said!"

"But they don't know about your father!"

"How could they not, they know everything bloody else!" Will scoffed, releasing her, stalking across the room.

"They know that he IS your fath-"

"HE is NOT my father!"

"Okay, okay, you know what I mean" Lizzie soothed, "What Im trying to say, is from what I gather, they don't know it was your mother whom he …. He …."

Will wasn't really listening to this, his mind went into overdrive, leaving him to irrationally conclude "You know, I think they're right!"

"WHAT!"

"Yeah, yeah they are, they must be!" Will stammered, with an enlightened expression on his face, as though he'd just worked out the meaning or life.

"NO!" Lizzie exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously, her brow furrowed.

"After all, it was ME he was here to see, its MY fault he's here, its MY fault Mrs Ryan is lying in that bed right now, her child taken from her!" Will was now quite taken with this absurd theory, taking no notice of Lizzie's pleas for him to see sense, dropping to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, his head in his hands.

Lizzie knelt on floor in front of him, resting her elbows on his knees, taking his hands in hers, lacing her fingers through his, and resting her forehead on his. After a few moments, Will whispered "I just feel as guilty as he should"

"Well don't, you've no reason too … no reason at all" she sighed, releasing her right hand, placing it on the back of his neck, which she caressed gently. "Its not your fault" she repeated, kissing his left cheek.

"Well whose is it then!" he cried, helplessly, his voice wracked with emotion.

Lizzie took his hung head in her hands, lifting it, only to see tears welling in his eyes too. At this, she decided it was time to do anything within her power to alleviate his conscience, even if the same could not be done for hers. After gulping hard, she took one last look at his face, then she leant forward, kissed him firmly on the mouth and whispered in his ear "If its anyone's, its mine", before slowly rising to her feet.

Will stayed on the floor, leaning back against the wall, dumbfounded as to what she meant. Finally, he lifted his head to look at her, Lizzie now with her back to him, leaning on the table with her right hand, her left hand across her mouth.

"Don't be silly Liz, you played no part in this, christ, you didn't know he was going to be there!"

"Didn't I!" she murmured, before breaking down, sobbing.

"But you didn't, you couldn't have …" Will insisted as he hauled himself up off the floor, pushing himself up the wall.

"I could and I did!" she said determinedly, turning around to face him before declaring "I asked him to come."

"You did wh- Nah, nah, you WOULDN'T have done that, you KNEW how much I despise him!" Will asserted, half laughing hysterically, shaking his head.

"He was your surprise, I asked him to be at the church this morning"

"Surprise? What kind of bloody surprise would that have been eh? I TOLD you I never, EVER wanted to see him again!"

"But, but the other day, when you went to see-"

"Wha, what other day?" Will hollered.

"When you saw him in town, when you sorted a few things out, I know you said it was difficult, but I thought-"

"You thought what! You'd invite him round for tea and cake in the vestry, that we could all have a nice chat - is that what you thought!" Will spat as he paced up and down in front of her, barely able to comprehend what he was hearing.

"No of course not, I just thought that if you were talking then-"

"You really don't get it do you?" Will said in a rather disturbingly calm voice.

"Get what?"

"Get the fact that I never spoke to him 'the other day'!"

"But you said you'd sorted a few things out."

"I know that's what I said, but the fact of the matter is my sweet, I hadn't clapped eyes on that butcher since I saw him sent down, before this morning's ruckus of course."

His deceit finally dawning on her, she began to realise just what she'd done. "S-s-s-o, you didn't have your difficult chat then?"

"No" Will answered firmly but sarcastically, slowly shaking his head, staring at her cold and hard.

"The only reason I asked him to come here was because YOU told me that you two had spoken, and you DIDN'T !" she snarled, her voice gaining pitch as she went along.

Will, suddenly realising that this was indeed true, but not wanting to dumb down the impression he was furious with her, reverted back to his old argument "I TOLD you I was finished with him, you just couldn't let it lie could you!"

However, Lizzie took no notice of this, still waiting for an answer to her question, she walked up to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He just stood there, frozen to the spot, he hated to see her cry, even though a small vengeful part of him thought she deserved it. His stillness allowed her to step up close and reach to out to hold his left cheek in the palm of her hand, asking "Why Will, why did you do that?", not looking into his eyes, more over his shoulder in a daze.

He looked down at her, and melted a little. "I did it to make you happy alright, I did it for you. I never wanted to see him again, I got down to the village, saw him drunk as a skunk outside the pub, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it" he sighed, brushing a tear off her right cheek.

At this, she looked up at him and nodded slightly, just to acknowledge that she'd heard him before letting out a tearful "I'm SO sorry Will", leaning up to kiss him, putting her arms round his neck.

However, at this, he took her arms from around his neck, pulling away, shaking his head, " I'm sorry Liz, but right now, I just cant believe you'd go behind my back like that, after everything I told you about my past, how could you bring that man here, to our home only to.. To.." He was for words, before suddenly finding them "Id say save your apologies for Mrs Ryan, but Jarvis would probably just think I'd just got you do it, to shift the blame from me, coz that's the kind of guy I am!"

"To them, but not to me!"

"And whose fault is that!" he venomously reminded her. " Just leave it for the time being eh" He huffed, as he stalked back over to the table, picking up the cleaver, and without stopping to put his apron back on, resumed his duty.

Lizzie, realising that he meant what he said, the fact that he'd lied to her in the first place, now went straight over her head, as she was consumed with guilt. Momentarily, she just stood there dumbstruck, her mouth open, bottom lip quivering, before turning on her heels as the cleaver smashed down on the chopping board, and after throwing open the door, she ran through it and back down the corridor without looking back.

Will raised the cleaver, but instead of slicing through the next piece of meat, he hurled it straight forward. As it ricocheted off the stone wall, he was forced to duck quickly, crashing down onto the floor, where he then stayed for a considerable period of time, going over and over in his mind what had just happened, getting increasingly angry with himself each time.


End file.
